Black Butler Novel: His Butler With Two Masters
by Tower of Babel
Summary: A mysterious young boy finds his way into the Phantomhive household with an uncanny resemblance to Ciel; his twin brother, Lukas, resurfaces after seven years apart. Their recent pasts are intertwined in a sinister, mysterious way, albeit sadistic, shadowy men with a hidden agenda, with supernatural upcomings, and betrayal; bonds are tested, and family secrets are revealed.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

Vincent Phantomhive considered his greatest joy in life was his young son Ciel. Ciel's big, bright happy eyes always brought a smile to Vincent's face whenever he felt melancholy.

At the moment, spending a resolute period of solitude with his family, he felt at peace. He sat next to his wife on a couch in the main living room while Ciel made "choo-choo" noises playing with the prototype of a new train toy that _Fantom Toys _was preparing to put into production. It was but one of a handful of Vincent's companies situated around the world that produced an array of many profitable items. Vincent Phantomhive was a shrude businessman like his father before him.

Vincent always let his son play with new toys. It was like testing. If Ciel liked it, so will other kids. And Ciel enjoyed this train very much. It was not painted yet, but the wooden structure was fully built. Ciel moved it around the carpeted floor with joyous glee that it gave Vincent so much joy.

Leaning over, he stroked Ciel's dark hair. "Someday you will grow and inherit a powerful empire, son. I foresee you becoming a great leader among men."

The boy looked up at his father and Ciel smiled and nodded. Although Vincent doubted his son knew the true implications of his words, nodding for the sake of Vincent's soft spoken words and seeing him smile. Ciel was only five.

Vincent slowly rose from the couch, he then looked to his wife as if mentally sending her where he was headed. She seemed to understand and nodded back.

He headed through the Phantomhive mansion to his private office at the end of a long hallway, finding a silver platter with a single white envelope sitting in the centre of his desk in front of a large window that overlooked the thousands of acres of back property.

For a moment, Vincent merely stood and looked at the envelope with its royal wax seal. Tanaka, his butler, had obviously brought it. And Vincent knew from whom it was sent from. Her Royal Majesty, the Queen of England, for which the Phantomhive family resided in the countryside just outside Wales.

He sighed, not wanting to pick it up. But he was inclined. It was most likely another "mission" from the Queen, for which the Phantomhive's were her royal guard dog. Whatever insidiousness that must be done to preserve the sanctum and stability of England, this was the Phantomhive's appointment. And Vincent was not the first to undertake this role. His ancestors had been employed for generations before him and he would not recant on family tradition.

With a letterhead, he sliced open the top of the envelope and removed the letter. And immediately frowned. Indeed it was what he had feared. Another mission from the Queen. But it was a mission of exceptional intrigue, unlike any he had undertaken before. . .

His wife came to stand at the door to his office with Ciel at her side. His young son's excitement alerted him to their presence as Ciel ran to Vincent with arms open wide.

Vincent reached down and picked up Ciel in his arms, hugging him, forcing a smile so not to appear unnerved by the Queen's letter.

Vincent still had the letter in his arms, and Ciel said, "Another letter, Daddy? From the Queen?"

He gave his wife a momentary glance before looking back at Ciel, and smiled fondly at his son. "Yes, Ciel. Another letter from the Queen." It was such a common occurrence in the Phantomhive household.

Ciel frowned. "Does this mean you and Mommy will be going away for awhile?"

"I'm afraid so," Vincent said, disliking when his son frowned. Ciel was such a happy child. "But Tanaka will look after you until we return."

As if on cue, Tanaka appeared at the door. He was a thin, tall man, with silvery hair, in proper attire. The elderly butler bowed. "I will look after Ciel as if he were my own son, my lord," he said.

"I trust you will. I have always entrusted you with Ciel's well-being," Vincent replied. Tanaka came further into the room and Vincent handed his son off to the elderly and dapper gentleman.

"Come, young master," Tanaka said. "It is time to put young Earl's to bed."

The sun had nearly set as shadows danced like demons within the office, coalescing what little light was now left outside. Candlelight lit most of the room. As Tanaka lead Ciel out, Vincent turned to his wife and handed her the letter to read.

She read it, and looked shocked afterwards. Vincent understood her trepidation. But they were partners in his mission, as they were partners in all things. They discussed it and finalized their plans.

This would be their most difficult mission yet.

TO BE CONTINUED


	2. The Boy With A Phantomhive Resemblance

_CHAPTER ONE_

**_THE MYSTERIOUS BOY WITH A PHANTOMHIVE RESEMBLANCE_**

Ciel Phantomhive was only twelve years old, but mindfully he felt much older. And he had to be, he was the primary head of all Phantomhive enterprises. He sat behind his father's reconstructed oak desk in his office and mused of a great many things.

Everything of the Phantomhive mansion had been rebuilt to their original state just before the fire that burnt it all down two years ago that also took his parents' lives.

He wanted to preserve the memory of everything just as it had been before that horrible day. Which just happened to be his tenth birthday. He lain down a few of his own touches to now _his_ home, as he was Earl Phantomhive and head of the household, but most was like it was, built brick by brick to its original stature.

With his mind presently occupied on business, he read a newspaper article some reporter put together on _Fantom Toys_, his toy company situated in Germany. It was written in German, then picked up in one of Britian's national newspapers and translated into the Queen's english. It spoke of the excellence of _Fantom Toys_, and how economically it was prospering. It was doing so well, and the financial numbers even brought a thin smile to Ciel's face.

"Good news I take it, young master?"

Sebastian's voice surprised Ciel. He had been so engrossed in the article that he hadn't noticed the butler enter. Looking up, he gazed at the dapper English gentleman in his black and white uniform of his status with one eye. Ciel's other eye, his right, was covered with an eye patch and covered the covenant both shared.

Sebastian was head butler to the Phantomhive household. Tanaka, Ciel's father's butler, was still around, but his energy levels mostly sidelined his involvement with daily servitude. And Ciel accepted this, to a point. And so did Sebastian. And a man like Tanaka deserved a certain amount of respect and rest, especially after a lifetime of servitude.

Sebastian approached Ciel with a rolling two-level wooden tray and a pot of tea. The butler poured Ciel a cup of tea and placed it on the desk next to the open newspaper.

For a moment, Ciel eyed the butler with his dark long hair and ghostly white pale skin. There was much history between them. Sebastian Michaelis was, in essence and to the extent of all else, a devil. And a devil for whom Ciel would see his own eventual and violent end to. But he was unbothered by this. If he hadn't struck a bargain with this devil, the last of the Phantomhive's would have died in a most horrendous way, on some table covered in blood, slain for ritualistic purposes. With a collective agreement, Ciel had survived. But not without cost.

Ciel Phantomhive was the line of his family line. Sebastian would be Ciel's butler until the murderers of Ciel's parents were brought to justice. Just when that would be, Ciel didn't know. But everyday he thought about what he would do when he came face-to-face with them…

Ciel reached for the delegate looking tea cup imported from China, and took a sip. The taste was familiar. "Earl Grey? I approve."

"Thank you, my lord," Sebastian said. "I recall the many different teas served to you as of late, and I thought this would be appropriate for today as it is your favorite."

Ciel said nothing about the butler's explanation. "So you have already heard?"

"Yes, my lord. 'Fantom Toys' is apparently doing quite well."

Sebastian must have read the article before bringing the newspaper to Ciel's office, the Earl wondered, while still maintaining its crisp appearance as if never read. Sebastian consistently maintained a posh appearance with every activity he engaged in and that even meant the little things. Ciel knew the demon liked to be on top of current events, and it was on rare occasion the butler was ever caught off guard regarding society's events and historical trivia.

"Indeed," Ciel confirmed. "My toy company in Germany is becoming very profitable."

"More profitable. The Phantomhive reputation is renown for its excellent craftsmanship with toys, among other things. Even the Fantom clothing lines are in receivership of excellence. Also, your machinist factories in India is producing sound quality merchandise."

"Quite," Ciel said, not surprised at any of Sebastian's news. Ciel knew all this as well, receiving updates on the financial upcomings of all his business endeavors daily. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

Sebastian smiled, then pulled out a small black book from the inside of his jacket pocket. He opened it, putting on a pair of thin rimmed glasses. He read: "Today, you have a full agenda. This morning you have a dance lesson with Madame Kelly, a luncheon with a Mister Yelts who wishes to discuss an overseas business venture from the Americas, a fencing lesson in mid-afternoon, and later - " He stopped.

Ciel saw the butler gaze inwardly and distractedly. "What?"

Sebastian smiled thinly. "It appears we have a uninvited guest on the property."

"And how in earth do you know that, I ask."

Sebastian merely smiled without explanation, and Ciel knew enough not to question his butler's otherworldly instincts or feelings.

Ciel waved him off. "Deal with it immediately," he said. "And whoever it is, bring him to me."

Sebastian grinned staunchly and bowed. "Of course, my lord." Then left.

* * *

The stone, mason ruins behind the mansion were like a collection of labyrinth-like caves that lead to mere nowhere. They had been sealed off years ago, long before the Phantomhive mansion had been built on the property. These ruins had been here since the turn of the 17th century and were supposedly the last remnants of the mansion to a Baron that once lived on the property before a fire destroyed it, but were never cleared.

However this boy knew this, he wondered why. He just knew. And as he crawled into a small alcove; his breathing slowed to normal. He had been running for quite some time from two men who had been chasing him. Him on foot, them on horseback. He had managed to elude them in the forestry around this land, and now found himself here. And he wondered how he managed to know to come here to hide?

He knew this place, or at least he thought he did. His memory was fragmented. Pieces of his identity were coming back, but in sand grain fills. Like an hour glass with sand sifting grains one-by-one. But the pieces still didn't fit. But he knew his name, and that was all that was clear to him. And yet why these two men on horseback were chasing him, he didn't know that. But they were determined, that's all he knew.

He had escaped some place that was in total darkness, and then the next thing he knew he found himself in the countryside in bright sunshine. It didn't make sense, and he was unconcerned at the moment, and only wanted to flee these two men. And for the moment, he had. They were searching for him in the forest, the forest he could see with his naked eye across his vision straight ahead.

Sitting down, he hunkered deep into the alcove he found and into the darkness where the men wouldn't be able to find him. He made sure to walk in the river to hide his tracks and the river lead here to this hiding spot to these ruins. He felt cold and wet, and the rags he wrote were tattered, dirty and torn. His hair was mated with filth and dripped water into his exposed skin. But he breathed easy now.

"Come on out," a voice sounded, and the boy snapped his head in its direction. "I know you are there." The voice sounded elegant, like one of the elite spoken. It was soft and friendly, and was not harsh and uneducated like one of the two men whom had been chasing him.

The boy tried to squeeze deeper into the alcove but to no avail, and the educated sounding man leaned over and looked into the cave. He was dark looking, the light silhouetting his form. But his eyes were bright and beamed through the darkness like two beacons.

"No need for concern, young man, your pursuers are gone. I made sure of it." The man extended his hand and the boy took it, crawling out of the alcove into the sunlight. "I am Sebastian Michaelis, butler to the Phantomhive household. You are safe now."

The boy still felt apprehensive, but oddly didn't feel scared. "I am sorry I intruded upon your land. Please forgive me. I was being chased by two men on horseback, for which now you have assured me are gone. I will leave, if you request?"

"My, you are a well spoken young man. You are the same age as my master. What, prey-tell, is your name?"

"Leic."

"Liec. Hmm." Sebastian said, and he eyed the boy up and down. "My master would like to speak with you."

"Who is your master?"

"Ciel Phantomhive." Sebastian turned his head sideways slightly as if intrigued.

"Why do you look at me like that? Do I fascinate you?"

Sebastian produced a small grin. "Do forgive me. I didn't mean to stare. In truth, you look very much like someone I know."

Another voice hollowed in the distance, and Finny, the Phantomhive gardener came running towards the pair. He approached, stopping just short of the river edge. "Young master said to come help. He said there was an intruder on the grounds." Finny gasped. "Young master… But I just saw you in the mansion? How did you get out here so fast, and so dirty?"

The younger man, who looked like a typical highland Scottish sheep herder, looked at Sebastian, and the boy noticed their looks of familiarity. "What?"

"Finny, so you noticed the resemblance as well," Sebastian simply said.

"He looks just like…, indeed he does," Maylene's voice chimed in as she appeared opposite Finny on the river edge next to a set of stone ruins. She was the Phantomhive's maid, wearing a red maid's dress and large, circular rim glasses.

"Maylene, you're here too?" Sebastian said.

The boy looked at her, and then at another man who also appeared next to her in chef's attire, and smoking a cigarette. He was just as tall as the butler.

"This is a mystery, aint it?"

"Indeed, Bard," Sebastian agreed.

"What are you all goaking about?" Liec said annoyed.

"His voice even sounds the same," Bard said. "The only difference is he aint wearing any eye patch."

"His name is Leic," Sebastian said. "We are to bring him to the master immediately, after he cleans up, of course."

TO BE CONTINUED


	3. A SCANDALOUS PHANTOMHIVE THEORY

**_CHAPTER TWO_**

**_A SCANDALOUS PHANTOMHIVE THEORY_**

* * *

"An uncanny resemblance indeed," Ciel said,. He eyed Liec. His servants had escorted the boy to the bathing chambers down a hallway. Sebastian stood next to Ciel in a hallway. "Any information about him?"

"None as if yet, my lord," Sebastian said. "He seems to have a form of amnesia and only remembers his name."

"Amnesia, you say. And about his name, did you happen to notice?"

"I did, master. Liec spelled backwards is Ciel. One of many mysteries about this boy we have yet to unravel."

"He looks exactly like me."

"But with a kinder disposition." Sebastian smirked.

Ciel frowned, not sharing his butler's humor. "We must discover Liec's history. I leave that up to you, Sebastian."

"I shall endeavor to adhere to your request, my lord." Sebastian bowed, and then left to attend to their new houseguest.

* * *

Liec had cleaned up very proper. His hair was clean and shiny and parted on the right and he was dressed in one of his young master's casual dress attire. Sebastian had to admit a curious but uncomfortable sensation gazing at this spitting image of his master before him. But Liec's eyes were brighter, not filled with hate.

"You're staring at me again," Liec said.

Sebastian shook the momentary fog from his mind. "Forgive me."

"Do I really look so much like your master that my very appearance turns you statuesque?"

"If I may beg your indulgence for a moment. By your sudden appearance, I am reminded of a novel written by an American author called the _Prince and the Pauper_. It is about a bored prince who wishes to leave the confines of sovereignty and royal life to partake in simpler things and a young pauper boy who wishes to live the life of luxury. Thus, their resemblance uncanny similar, they exchange places. Only when it comes to changing back, they find it isn't so easy, and when their rouse is found out, no one believes their story."

Liec crossed his arms. "So what does that make me? Are you saying I am some sort of begger hound after your master's lineage just because I look like him?"

Sebastian said nothing at first. Then he smiled. "Forgive me. It was not my intention to allow such assumptions to flourish. Rest assured I had no thought of the kind." Pausing momentarily, he rubbed his chin. "However, lineage does pose an interesting question. Perhaps you are a distant member of my master?"

"Will your master see me now? Am I presentable?"

"Quite," Sebastian said. "I will lead you to him. This mansion is like a labyrinth and you could get lost on your own of you are unfamiliar within its inner dwellings."

"I know something about twins, and they are identical from birth, but I have no siblings," Liec said, as they began to walk.

"That you know of," Sebastian corrected. "You have amnesia, and that will play disorder with an individual's memories. Come, it is time to meet my master. The Earl of Phantomhive."

Liec nodded. "Lead the way, good butler."

* * *

Ciel and Leic stood facing one another, gazing at the other's uncanny resemblance to the other. Other than Ciel's eye patch, they were near identical.

All the servants agreed. Sebastian, Tanaka, Finny, Mi-Ryn, and Bard were all in attendance in the Drawing Room watching the children who had never met but looked like twins from birth eye each other up and down with curiosity.

Ciel stood motionless as Liec then circled him as if furthering his inquiry like some detective. "I don't believe it," Liec said. "You really do look like me. How is this possible?"

"I am Ciel, son of Vincent Phantomhive, and I know for a fact that he had only one child. Me! If that's what you were thinking. I detest this insult to my family!" Liec stopped to face Ciel directly. "What? What are you looking at?"

"What happened to your eye?" Liec asked.

Ciel gently touched his eye patch. "An accident, nothing more." He gave a brief glace towards Sebastian. "A keepsake of sorts, from when my family's mansion burned down two years ago. Then rebuilt to exact standards as before." _At least that's what everyone has come to believe. The truth is more disturbing. And more sinister, _Ciel thought.

Liec blinked twice. He looked concerned, almost sympathetic. He raised a hand, as if to touch it. "May I see your eye?"

Ciel slapped Liec's hand away. "Certainly not! How impertinent to suggest such a thing! Your presence here is testing my patience. I demand to know who you are and why you look like me!"

"I don't know, I swear! All I know is my name. Liec. It's the truth."

"We know that." Ciel's one visible eye narrowed. This wasn't getting anywhere. "I would know if I had a sibling, more so a twin. There is a special connection between twins, I am so told. But I feel nothing for you. Tanaka, my father's butler has stated with absolute certainly I am an only child. So, we are to make one conclusion. You are lying! Who set you up this farce? I have many enemies, even as young as I."

"I am not lying!"

"If I may beg my master's indulgence for just one moment before tempers begin to flare," Sebastian interrupted. "It is a rarity, but knowledge of such identical children are known to appear within families who are distantly related. Master, you do have several cousins outstanding within England, even if you never visit them. I am not suggesting Liec is anything of the sort. But the evidence does sway in this direction, no matter how fantastic."

"Non-sense!" Ciel protested. "Similar in appearance, I will agree. But not identical. No, Liec is an imposter, and whoever set him up this will get a rude awakening."

"I am not an imposter!" Liec eyes began to tear up. "You have - you must - believe me. I don't know why I look like you!"

Sebastian put a gentle hand on the Liec's shoulders as if you comfort him. "Please, young sir. Do not take my master's hostility to heart. He is merely angry and confused."

Ciel sneered. "You presume too much, Sebastian. In any regard, I want to know who he really is." Ciel turned to leave the room. "And in the meantime, escort him to one of the guest quarters and secure the door. Do not let him leave."

Sebastian bowed. "Of course, my lord. Leave everything to me."

* * *

When Ciel had left, Sebastian turned to the servants. "Please escort, young Liec to one of the guest quarters and obey our lord's orders." Finny, Mi-Ryn and Bard obeyed. "Tanaka, please stay behind for a moment."

After the room was empty except for the two of them, Sebastian turned to Tanaka, who had found enough energy to revert back to his normal, distinguished self, instead of a low energetic old man.

"I do not know him, if that is what you are going to ask," Tanaka said.

"I believe you, but something is not right. I feel trepidation from our young lord, uncertainty. But we both know he will refuse to admit it."

"Quite right. Ciel is a strong boy. I believe I know who may shed some light on this. An authority on family heritage. Ciel is an only child, that I am certain. But as for other relatives, I do not know them all. I will provide what information I can of the Phantomhive family."

"That will be helpful. And I too know of a person who may be able to help us. He is an expert in his own rite on controversial subjects as well."

* * *

The Undertaker was sprawled across the floor of his shop laughing hysterically. Sebastian had just told him a funny joke. It was the Undertaker's price for information exchange.

The Undertaker preferred a combination of funny and rude humor, and Sebastian knew this and was happy to oblige, and he knew a lot of crude jokes that would make even his master cringe with disgust. The Earl didn't have much of a sense of humor, but the Undertaker did. Sebastian didn't know the man's true name, everyone just called him the Undertaker because of his profession. Sebastian accepted that.

"The delivery of the joke was perfection," the Undertaker said, crawling to a display casket in the middle of his shop and taking hold, hauling himself to his feet. "I say, you get better and better with these jokes!"

"I do try," Sebastian said modestly. "Now, for the information I requested, if you please."

"Yes, of course." The Undertaker composed himself. The man grinned. "Oddly enough, twins are becoming more commonplace these days. Human Biology is an interesting science that I enjoy along with my duties here. I here Lord Byron of Jackson has twin boys and The Duke of Earnest also has the same. And just this year."

"Yes, that news has passed my way in the local newspaper. But how rare is it that members of the same family have similar identical children both of different parents. I had heard of such a thing happening, and in telling my master, I may have embellished to put my master's mind at ease to say it was rare but not uncommon."

"I can't say I know of that happening, but anything is possible. The only theory I can come of with, and you may not like it, is that young lord Phantomhive's father may have birthed an illegitimate child."

Sebastian cupped his chin thinking. "That is disheartening. My master holds his father is high regard. If it were true, it would be scandalous, and would blacken my masters' family name. I can not allow this information to see the light in any regard. And it puts me a very precautious position."

"His butler with two masters, how amusing," the Undertaker said.

"Quite." Sebastian nodded. "That may also explain the spelling of Liec's name."

"Two different lives they've lived, only one in a position of power and the other homeless. And to what history does he tell you of his lineage?"

"He does not. He does not remember anything but his name."

"Amnesia, he has, eh? Quite problematic for you." The Undertaker mused for a moment. "I do say, I can recall a young boy running through these very streets just last afternoon. He was being chased by two men on horseback. I need not know why. I just happen to see them while sweeping my entrance."

"And from which direction did you witness them adhere from?"

They stepped outside, and the Undertaker pointed West. That really didn't help Sebastian.

The Undertaker mused again, but this time out loud. "This reminds of me a story. There is a legend of a spirit who often takes the shape of a lost boy. The story goes he was chased by two men on horseback and fell down a well on the edge of town. The well was so deep his body was never recovered, and no one even claimed he was missing. Sometimes on foggy nights, a boy can be seen running through the streets chased by two men on horseback. This is a very old legend, and some people even claim to have seen the boy."

"Like yourself," Sebastian said.

"Ah, but this boy I saw was no spirit. He was solid like you and I."

"And the men I intercepted on my master's land were real as well."

"You killed them, did you?"

"No, but they will not venture onto my master's land again. That I imprinted on them quite clearly."

"Then a mystery you have on your hands, you do," the Undertaker said with a chuckle. "But I never take things in hand as they are. All people have a story, a secret they wish or do not wish others to know. In death, there are no secrets, however. Appears in life can be deceiving."

"In the meantime, I must coven this boy as if he is my master until things are clarified."

"The Earl will not like that. A butler can not serve two masters."

"Indeed." The idea did not sit well with Sebastian, especially with the covenant he had with Ciel. "Thank you for your help, Undertaker."

"My pleasure."

The Undertaker stared at Sebastian. "Was there something else?"

"We are not finished, you and I. I have more information. Some of which you will not enjoy to hear. Snippets of the Phantomhive's - rumors per se about _their_ butler, Tanaka."

"He is a very private man, not even I know a lot about him," Sebastian said.

"Then return with me to my parlor. This information _must _be spoken in private."

TO BE CONTINUED.


	4. To Keep A Secret

**CHAPTER 3 - "****TO KEEP A SECRET"**

Tanaka knocked on the guest quarters door. He didn't need to as it was locked and its occupant couldn't flee and Tanaka had the key, but it was customary to knock first to announce one's presence.

Unlocking the door, he let himself in, pushing in front a trolley of food and drink for Liec. "I thought you may be hungry," he said.

He found Liec sitting melancholy on the love seat in front of the bay window overlooking the back property gazing outward as if lost in thought.

"Am I prisoner here?" Liec muttered.

He lazily looked back at Tanaka, and the old butler sighed. Tanaka placed an open plate of cheese and crackers on a near by table.

"Don't think that," Tanaka said. "Master Ciel is only judging the situation accordingly for your well-being."

Liec put up a hand as if to silence a servant. "Spare me," he said. "I know my movements are being watched. I've been a prisoner before."

Tanaka cocked his head slightly. "Have you now? Do you remember something of your past?"

Tanaka thought he caught a flash of remembrance from the boy, but the moment quickly faded. But the boy continued to stare at him as if trying to squeeze out a memory from his subconscious to the surface. His eyes narrowed.

"Please leave," Liec said.

Tanaka bowed slightly. "Please call if you need anything by pulling on this rope next to the bed. It will alert the servants and someone will attend to your needs."

Liec turned and looked at the rope as Tanaka made his way to the door. Then turned back. "No, wait. Please stay."

"You've changed your mind about having company?"

"I want to ask you a question, if you know the answer, that is."

"I will try to be of any assistance if I can provide it."

"Who is that 'other' butler? The younger one who acts all superior? Are you not Head butler of the household?"

"His name is Sebastian Michealis. He and the master are very close."

"That did not answer my question. You have been in service of the Phantomhive household for many years, have you not?"

"I have. But I am too old to properly conduct the day-to-day duties of a younger man. Therefore, I conduct what I am able."

"So you are kept on out of respect for your years of service?"

"I am a butler of the Phantomhive household because I can teach the young master much still. Ciel is still a mere child and needs schooling to become a healthy adult."

"I hear the Michealis takes care of that as well."

"And where did you hear that?" Tanaka asked with firm inquisitiveness.

"The servants. They've come to visit me as well."

"I was unaware of that. But let me reiterate: you are not a prisoner."

"Can I go too and fro as I please?"

Tanaka sighed. "No."

"Then leave me please, I wish to be alone with my thoughts. And take your prison food with you!"

"I will leave, but the food will stay as per my master's orders. Young boys need nourishment to stay healthy."

Tanaka then left.

* * *

The moment Tanaka closed Liec's quarters' door behind him, Sebastian seemed to appear close by as if out of thin air. But what should have frightened him, didn't even make the old man twitch.

Tanaka turned to look at the tall, younger man, but said nothing.

"Is out guest fairing well?" Sebastian asked.

"Yes. A little bitter about his circumstances, but nonetheless well."

"Very good." Sebastian paused a moment before speaking once more. "Tanaka, my I speak with you a moment in private. It's an urgent matter. The Dining Room is empty."

But at the worse possible moment, Tanaka's energy evaporated and exhaustion demurred him.

Sebastian sighed. "Maybe later."

* * *

Some time ago, Ciel Phantomhive had asked, or rather ordered Sebastian, that he wanted the family portrait that resided above the stairs in the front vestibule of the mansion to be removed.

And he remembered what he had said when he made the order: "I am Ciel, son of Vincent, and I am the head of the Phantomhive household now."

He didn't see it, but he could _feel_ Sebastian smile after he said those words. They were cold and bitter, and Sebastian, being the demon that he is, most assuredly enjoyed hearing them. It would fuel his hunger for Ciel's soul. Sebastian Michaelis, the demon who eventually devour Ciel's soul after his parents' death mystery was unraveled and their murderers brought to justice.

The portrait _had_ been a daily reminder of what Ciel lost and had to look at it every time he retired for the night residing above the stairs in the front vestibule, it like salt in an open wound. So he had it taken it down and put in storage in the deepest depths of the mansion's cellars. He would've preferred it be destroyed, but he couldn't drum up the courage to do that. It was, only, a reproduction of the original painting that burned in the original Phantomhive mansion fire two years ago. But there _was_ a certain sentimental attachment to it. So his servants placed it in a dank, dark cellar, devour of light and life.

It was the very same cellar he found himself now. He was holding a three arm wick candle holder and it's light danced demonically across the walls, as he stood staring at the faces of his parents who seemed to stare back at him from the grave. Their faces joyful and happy.

And so was _his_ face in the portrait. He had a wide smile and big, blue happy eyes. A far cry of now.

"I can't smile, I've forgotten how," he once told Sebastian.

This was not weakness coming down here, he told himself. He wanted answers, and he thought staring at the portrait might evoke inspiration as to why his parents may have separated their twin sons at birth, or was Sebastian's explanation of twin children being born to different parents but within the same family line be true?

But what little he knew of biology, twin children being born to different parents was absurd.

_Maybe Liec has something to do with _those _people that night…_

Ciel felt the mark that was branded on the side of his torso - "the mark of the beast", they had say it was. The beast referring to Lucifer, the devil. Did his parents really worship the devil and with this mark they wanted to bring him into the fold when he was old enough? Perhaps if it wasn't for the fire, he might have found out. And if he hadn't made a contract with Sebastian on that night, as well. Maybe Liec _was_ truly his twin brother and not acting? Maybe they _were_ separated and Liec was raised by one of _those_ people? Maybe he finally escaped after twelve long years? So many what ifs, however.

Ciel shook his head. It all seemed so preposterous and demented. But on the other hand, Liec looked just like him, and unless Liec underwent some sort of medical scientific procedure to make himself look like Ciel, (and that medical science didn't exist as far as he knew), then there were two surviving Phantomhive children - twins. The foremost question was why, why did his parents separate them?

His mind raced with so many questions…

"So here you are," a voice echoed through the cellar, momentarily startling Ciel. His whole body jumped. Then he saw the tall, dark figure of his butler, the white ghostly pale of his face illuminated with orange candle light.

"What the hell do you think you're doing! Do you want to give me a heart attack?"

Sebastian merely smiled. "Come, come, sir. You're too young for that. But a good scare never hurt anyone." His tone bordered on mockery. "But forgive me, my lord. I was concerned I couldn't find you."

Ciel turned back to the portrait. "Don't insult me with that excuse. You know where to find me at anytime. Our contract is like a leash around a dog's neck."

"An acute analogy, master."

"_Woof_," Ciel said mockingly, knowing Sebastian hated dogs and referring to his position as the Queen's guard dog. "But I hold _your _leash, and don't you forget it!"

"Indeed," Sebastian said. "May I ask why you are down here? Ruminating?"

"Solving a mystery," Ciel said. "Like Dummont's story _The Man in the Iron Mask_. It appears, whether I like it or not, I do have a twin brother who was hidden from the world and me for whatever reason."

Sebastian went straight-faced. "So you have decided Liec _is_ your twin brother?"

"The evidence speaks for itself. He looks like me; there is no other explanation. My parents had twins, and for some reason kept my brother from me. Now he has surfaced and I am at a lost at what to do with him."

"How about welcome him?" Sebastian suggested. "But I will say this: _You_ are my master and no one else and that will not change regardless of Liec's presence here. I also serve the Phantomhive household."

"So, what you're saying is to release him from his gilded cage and accept him?" Ciel put a hand to his head as if a sudden headache came on. "If this scandal would to get out, it could ruin the Phantomhive name."

"How so, my lord?"

"It would say my parents abandoned one of their children for the other. It would deem them horrible parents. Fantom Co. that makes children's toys would be black-marked as an unfriendly child moniker. Liec's presence here is nothing but a nuisance and a complication for my family reputation."

"Not if the correct information is disrupted to the masses."

Ceil looked at Sebastian and the demon smiled. "Such as…?"

And Sebastian explained his idea.

First and foremost, they would keep Liec quiet for now.

* * *

To be continued.


	5. In Search of the Truth

**CHAPTER 4 - "****IN SEARCH OF THE TRUTH"**

"This is no way to treat a guest!" Leic protested.

Ciel Phantomhive's "twin" was shackled to the arm of a chair and the chair was fastened securely to the floor of the Dining Hall. Leic yanked at the iron binding that secured his left wrist to a short chain, long enough to give Leic movement to eat, but very little else.

"Tonight's meal consists of pheasant under glass, accompanied by a tossed green salad with shrimp, and a for dessert a chocolate mousse," Sebastian announced, standing erect in the middle of the elongated table with a white serving towel draped over on folded arm. Then served them both from a food trolley.

Leic eyed Sebastian as he put down a plate of pheasant (chicken) and a bowl of salad in front of him. "Whose idea was it to treat me like this? I'm not a prisoner!"

Ciel took a drink from a gobbet that had already been poured with water, the most suitable accompaniment to the mea as opposed to alcohol. "A precaution, naturally," Ciel said. He gazed at his "guest" across the table. "You are afforded this luxury because of certain facts that have come to light."

Sebastian served Ciel, as Leic said, "And what facts are those?"

"That you, and it pains me to say it, may very well be a son of Vincent Phantomhive, my brother. But that is still up for debate. You may also be an imposter."

Leic sighed. "We've been through this before. I look like you, I sound like you… if it looks like a duck and sounds like a duck - "

"It may be fowl," Ciel cut in. "Nothing is absolute in this world, not even blood."

"I'm not trying to take anything away from you, Ciel," Liec said. He used a fork and knife to cut off a piece of chicken and then ate it. "My memory is very foggy."

Ciel finished a morsel of food, took a sip of water before saying, "And that is why your presence here is so dangerous right now. If the wrong people were to, let's say, kidnap you, you could be killed or forced to do something nefarious against my name. I'd have you know, I have a lot of enemies in London."

"I would never do anything of the sort. Besides, I didn't escape one prison to end up in another."

"And what do you mean by that?"

Leic looked thoughtful for a moment, as if trying to look inside his own mind for some clue of his past. Somewhere in his memories everything he had experienced and who he was was storaged in his brain. He turned back to look at Ciel. "I don't know. I just feel I was imprisoned. And that's why I ran away, that's why those two men on horseback were chasing me."

"And in all of England, you just _happen_ to end up on my estate? I don't believe in coincidences."

Leic shook his head. "I don't know why I came here. But I felt drawn, that I belong here."

"That is yet to be determined."

Ciel gave a quick nod to Sebastian, and as if to understand some silent order, Sebastian then moved to the back of the room to stand to alone in a corner as Ciel and Leic to ate without the butler hounding over them. It was also proper edict. Master's ate alone, servants ate in their quarters or in the kitchen. But with Leic here, Sebastian stood watch.

After the meal, the plates were removed.

As Leic was shackled to the chair, Ciel edged his way to the other to the other end of the table. "That was a good meal," Leic said, as Sebastian brought a chair for Ciel to sit next to Leic. "But am I to be chained to this chair all night? Surely a bed would be more comfortable."

"That all depends on your answers," Ciel said cryptically.

Leic's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Your chocolate mousse was laced with a truth serum. Sebastian did it." Ciel smiled. "Now every question I ask, you'll have no choice but to answer truthfully. Since your memory is foggy, as you say, this serum will interact with your nerves, penetrate the depths of your consciousness, and give us the answers that I seek about who you really are. If I find you are not telling the truth, I'll try something else."

"I'm telling you, I don't know anything about who I am except for my name."

Sebastian suddenly appeared beside Leic's chair and pulled a latch from the back quickly cramping Leic's wrists fully to the chair arms with hidden iron fasteners that were attached to the sides. His ankles were also caught and secured. Now Leic couldn't move. Minus a neck brace and a wheel in the back that would push out a piece of iron to slowly crack a victim's neck, the chair was a mild form of a medieval torture chair widely used in England prisons.

"Your name is merely a backwards form of mine, that tells me nothing." Ciel smiled gleefully sinister. "This shouldn't take more than an hour or two at most. And let me add, if I don't like your answers, you won't like my responses."

"Please, don't do this!" Leic pleaded.

Sebastian brought out a series of evil looking tools from a moderate-size black case and placed them on the table in front of Leic. They included a small round spiked hammer, used to smack hands and limbs; a miniature saw, used for cutting off limbs and fingers; a poker, used for heating up in coals to sear skin or heat up the fluid in eye balls to make them explode - and a variety of other nasty items. A "standard portable" torture kit. And all this brought Leic to wide-eyed fright.

"Now, let us begin," Ceil said.

And Leic began to scream.

* * *

A smothering gun held clutched in the hand of one of two men.

This man stood over the bodies of two men whom they had once employed. This execution was payment for failure. The men were supposed to recapture a boy who had escaped from an associate's laboratory.

The two men were murdered by this well-dressed man in a white suit. The other man was also dressed the same. They were tall, had white skin and blonde hair. In certain circles, they were known as the "Angels of Death" because they has killed so many people. They were twins.

Their names were Samuel and Sasha Ironstadt. Their ancestry was German, but they were born and raised in England. And they could speak both languages fluently.

Sasha stood over the bodies, while Samuel sat with his legs up on the desk that once belonged to an associate of theirs who had been killed. They were in the study of the their associate's mansion. His price for failure was the same.

"This will complicate things," Sasha said. He stood over the two men, and returned the gun to a holster he kept on his belt. The gun was gold embodied with silver lace. Samuel had "its" twin.

"Most assuredly," Samuel agreed, rising from the desk. He came to stand opposite his brother, careful not to step in the flowing blood that covered the floor from the two men's heads "But we will get the boy back."

"The boy's insertion was not foretold for another couple of months. Now he's with the _other_."

"Not to worry. His escape _was_predestined, but his memory hasn't been fully integrated. His true identity is concealed even by him. It is buried deep inside his subconscious, or as the Doctor says."

"Suspicions will arise by his sudden appearance and his identical nature to the Earl," Sasha said. "I suspect it will merely confuse and confound everyone involved, especially Ciel Phantomhive."

"Precisely the intention. New science gave birth to the Earl's twin. And to think, we have Vincent Phantomhive to thank."

Sasha grinned. "Him and the _Inner Circle_, of course."

"Of course." Samuel returned the grin. "In fact, this will work in our favor. Come brother, let us depart and plan further.

"Yes, we're finished here."

* * *

Sebastian put his hands on his hips as he stood over an unconscious Leic laying limpless in the chair. Ceil sighed frustrated.

"Was this really necessary, Master?" Sebastian asked. "He's merely a boy."

"I thought he would be more stronger-willed than this." The Earl looked Leic. Except for a little spittle than ran from the side of Leic's mouth, Leic was unharmed. His "twin" had fainted at the first sign of being tortured. But Ceil wasn't going to do anything of the sort. It was only a scare tactic. But it backfired.

"He doesn't have your fortitude, _my_ lord."

"Quite. And now the truth serum is wasted. Take him back to his quarters, let him sleep it off."

"Yes, my lord."

"But make sure he doesn't escape."

"Yes, my lord."

Sebastian unclamped the iron fasteners by releasing the lock on the back of the chair, and took off the chain attached to a iron faster around Leic's left arm. Then he lifted the boy in his arms and carried Leic back to the guest quarters, gently placing the boy on the bed and covering him with the sheets to let him rest. He locked the door behind him.

Outside in the hall, Sebastian smiled. Much like Dumont's story of _The Man in the Iron Mask, _he liked his evil "king" rather than the subtle lost twin and he had no intention of switching them. Just the thought of going through this whole torture masquerade as enough to make Sebastian Michalis hunger more for Ciel Phantomhive's soul.

But there was something about Leic that touched Sebastian in a profound way, and he found a familiar kinship with the boy. No, not kinship. His soul smelled exactly like his master's. That would could only come about if they came from the same blood, that they indeed shared the same soul.

That they were in fact twins.

And if it was so, when the time came to devour his master's soul, he could eat them both.

* * *

**To be continued.**


	6. A Lesson in who is Master

**CHAPTER 5 - "A LESSON IN WHO IS MASTER"**

The variance of Ciel's violin playing was coarsely, and throughout his time, Sebastian _had_ heard much worse. For his young master, the difficulty of the piece wasn't so much lacking or the boy's experience with the instrument as was my master's focus.

Ciel Phantomhive had not been keeping up on his lessons, he could hear, and having to deal with business and personal matters, and with young Leic, now fallen into the Phantomhive fold, Sebastian could sense some stress in the boy.

But it was time to get back to his master's schooling. The classical arts was essential for someone of his master's standing in society.

Sebastian's head ached with the screeching of the strings of the violin, normally his young master was better than this. It sounded like Ciel's heart wasn't in it.

He put a hand to his temples and closed his eyes, hoping he could salvage some aspect of his master's playing. But he could not find any.

A few theories danced in Sebastian's mind: maybe it was the acoustics in the study where they played that caused the variance of the instrument to play horribly, or maybe the strings weren't tightly bowed, or maybe the piece was too difficult for his master to play, or just maybe his master had something else was on his mind. He wasn't sure, but he could not let the atrocity of playing of this piece in this ghastly manner continue.

"Please stop," Sebastian insisted, sighing. "You must feel the music, you must absorb the notes, you much see the music in your mind. You must not just play the instrument. It is an extension of you. Use it to its fullest and play the notes that dwell within your soul."

Ciel muttered something, lowering the violin. Sebastian didn't quite hear it, but he could sense it wasn't a pleasant sentiment. "I have never played this piece of music before," Ciel said. He gazed at the stand where the music sheets were displayed. "But enough, I have other things to do. We'll continue this another time."

"Your education is important, my lord. Try it again."

"No." Ciel put the instrument down on his desk. "The lesson has ended for the day."

"And a new lesson will begin?" Ciel gave Sebastian a nasty look, as if Sebastian's word hinted on an innuendo. "Is something on wrong, sir? You seem distracted."

Ciel sat down in his chair behind the desk and for a moment appeared to just stare at the closed door of the study as if lost in thought. Sebastian followed his gaze, then looked back. Something was assuredly bothering his master.

Ciel looked down at a series of papers placed out in front of him, business assessments and figures. He didn't utter a word in response to Sebastian's inquiry.

"I see," Sebastian said, silently confirming his master's distractedness. "Shall I leave then?"

Without a further word uttered, Sebastian turned to leave his master to his own thoughts, when Finny, the household gardener burst into the study in a panic. The door flew open with a bang. "Sebastian! Come quick! It's the master - I mean, young Liec. Something's wrong!"

"What is it now?" Ceil demanded. "I thought you took Liec to his room and he was sedated?"

"I did, my lord. It is morning, however. It appears he's awoken from his spell of last night."

They were lead to the guest quarters by Finny, and here they were greeted with a series of crashes against the quarters' door like dishes smashing. The entire household staff, except for Tanaka, was outside waiting in the hall.

"What's all this then?" Ceil demanded.

"It's young Liec," Finny spoke, "he sounds angry."

"Obviously," Ceil said.

"I came to take the plates back that Tanaka brought for breakfast, yes I did," Mey-Rin, the maid said, "and I was told to not to come in, and then the noise started. Oh, I hope young Liec is okay, yes I do."

"I'm sure he's fine," Sebastian concluded, looking briefly at his master, and recalling the events of last night at dinner. They had drugged Leic with a truth serum at last night's dinner in the hopes that Leic would divulge the true nature of his coincidence here. Plans to use torture as a scare tactic to make him talk were also implemented. However Leic fainted before anything could happen or questions could be asked. The servants didn't need to know that.

"We just got those dishes," Bardroy said. "Those are new!"

"Settle down everyone," Sebastian said. "This can all be brought to an end quickly."

Sebastian stepped to the door. He had the key to the lock in his hand. He had locked the door last night after laying Liec on the bed.

For a moment, all was quiet behind the door. Liec has stopped throwing things. Until he knocked, the gentlemanly thing to do. And once again the dishes began to smash against the door with shattering impact. Sebastian smiled to himself. The boy was having a temper tantum. Quite the opposite of his master, who always carried himself with distinction and order.

"Come, come, do be a good boy," Sebastian spoke in his usual calm tone.

"You aren't coming in!" Liec shouted. "How dare you drug me and scare me half to death!"

"He's been saying that ever since this started," Finny explained. "What do you suppose it means?"

Sebastian looked at Ceil momentarily, and Ceil sighed. "Such childishness, explain to him of this inappropriateness, shall you." Ceil said it as if it were an order.

Sebastian gave a nod, and turned back to the door. "Now do be a proper lad and stop breaking things," Sebastian said. "You are a Phantomhive, and thus should act accordingly."

"Cold and sadistic like your master? Like hell! We may share the same face, but I am nothing like him!"

Ciel's face was expressionless when Sebastian looked back at him once again, with a sinister smile. True, despite looking the same, Sebastian found the two of them had different personalities. But if Liec's memory did return, would he be like his master? Probably not, the two had been bred up differently. Environment always constituted a child's personality. Curious, Sebastian wondered where Liec had been all this time and what sort of upbringing he had had, and of equal importance, how he lost his memory of it. Things were interesting, he thought. For a demon of his epoch, this was one mystery he would enjoy solving human-like.

Ceil said, "Do make him stop. That's an order."

Sebastian bowed. "Of course, my lord."

Sebastian took a step back and readied to kick the door down, but then had a different idea. He turned to Finny, remembering his abnormal strength. It was a strength Sebastian still didn't know much about, only that it was unnatural and most likely scientifically doctored. Yet another mystery.

He extended a have towards the door, indicating Finny as well. "If you'd please."

Finny pointed to himself. "Me? You want me to knock down the door?"

"Yes." Sebastian smiled. "You're strong, Finny. For once your strength will be an asset to us."

Finny looked at the others, and they expressed excitement at the task. "Alright," Finny agreed, somewhat reluctantly, knowing the destruction that often followed when he used his abnormal strength. Finny stepped back to the wall for distance. "But I warn you, it might get messy."

"Just be mindful to stop after you break the door down, and don't go through the wall," Sebastian added.

"Yeah Finny, you tell that door whose boss!" Bardroy cheered.

"Knock it down, I know you can," Mey-Rin said excitedly.

"Oh please, just open the damn door," Ceil said impatiently.

Finny appeared to take a moment to mentally prepare himself, then he bolted towards the door, and shouldered it. The door flew off its hinges and soared across the room narrowly missing Leic. Leic had to duck out of the way so to not get hit. On his hands and knees, Leic looked back at where the door was and where Ceil and his devilishly attentive butler were.

A sneer formed on Leic's face and he picked up a plate to throw, getting to his feet.

"Drop it!" Sebastian's voice boomed through the room and it harbored Leic motionless for a moment holding the plate. It was like the devil had just given him an order.

Leic dropped the dish and it shattered on the hard wood floor at his feet.

Sebastian mused, looking around the room. The entire place was in disarray, from the furniture to the bed, to the walls and even the curtains Sebastian shook his head, then signed. "This room will be in need of thorough revision."

As if remembering his previous actions, Leic picked up a piece of the shattered dish. "Y-You stay away from me! Both of you!"

"Calm yourself." Ceil stepped into the room, seeing what Leic clutched in his hand. "You were given instruction to drop that. There's no need for bloodshed." Leic held the dish shard so tight that his hand began to drip blood. "Sebastian, disarm him."

"Yes sir," the butler said.

And as if some unforeseeable force had taken hold of his body, Liec felt a power overwhelm him, and he couldn't move. Sebastian then walked over and removed the dish shard piece without resistance. "Thank you." Throwing it away.

Liec took several steps back, and held his bloody hand. "W-who are you people?"

Ceil stepped up and with a conceited smile and his hands on his hips, said, "We are the Phantomhive's, need I say more. And for all the damage you've caused, you'll fix. And pay off the damages."

Leic's anger was suddenly replaced with fear as he looked upon Ceil and Sebastian collectively. They looked like pair of demons in human form. He downed his eyes to them. "I want to leave, please."

"And go where?" Ceil answered. "But I'm afraid that's not possible at this time."

"Why?"

"Because I say so."

"Come, come. Everything is alright now." Sebastian placed a gentle hand on Liec's shoulder and smiled. Liec looked up at him. "You are our guest. And Phantomhive's have a reputation of treating our guests well, that's if they behave. Right now, it is time for a young boy to clean up his room."

With the other servants, Liec began to clean the room as ordered. But he took a fleeting look back to at Ceil before joining the others in straightening up the room.

Sebastian stood next to Ceil. He let the others do the work. He was a butler, after all. And one hell of one. The others could handle the clean up quite well.

Sebastian saw the hint of crooked smile on his master's face as he watched his twin bath in servitude, and he could feel the conflict between the two. The fire of hatred that continued to burn between these two brothers since their meeting.

Right now Liec appeared more frightened than angry, but Sebastian knew that would eventually change. It was only human nature to oneupmanship one's own brother to prove who was the dominant one.

He could feel the dislike they had for each other.

And it only made Sebastian's appetite for their souls grow.

**To be continued…**


	7. REVELATIONS

**CHAPTER 6 - "REVELATIONS"**

Liec was moved to another room, a less spacious guest quarters that had a bed and dresser and very little else. This was to keep Liec from destroying a better equipped room for actual, respected guests. The mansion had many guest quarters for lavish parties or other such occasions. Liec's previous room was reserved for special guests of the highest caliber. Little did Sebastian know that Liec would nearly demolish it with a child's temper tantrum.

All the furniture will have to be replaced, he thought.

His master how ordered Liec to remain in his quarters until said otherwise, and Sebastian had to oblige, locking the young twin of his master in the room, with only visits during meal times. He did not feel for the boy's isolation, knowing the boy - as he has said - was "imprisoned". But Sebastian knew what imprisoned felt like. This contract he had with his master was a prison of its own accord.

Liec could not explain the impression that he had, escaping from _his_ imprisonment, however, and finding his way to the Phantomhive mansion. He was drawn here by a "feeling", as he said. It was an intriguing mystery, Sebastian had to admit. One he most assuredly would have ample time to solve, he hoped.

Through the second floor corridors of the mansion, Sebastian rolled a food trolley towards Liec's quarters. After dining, his master ordered him to serve Liec lunch. Therefore, Sebastian gathered what was needed for a fitting course for Liec and left to deliver.

He stopped at the door and knocked, and half expected screams of "Go away!" from the boy from inside, but instead, and surprisingly, a subtle voice said, "Come in." Taken aback for a brief moment, Sebastian mused. Had he and his master broken Liec's spirit with their antagonistic nature prior by drugging Liec with a truth serum to make him reveal the true reason he was here…or had the boy merely calmed down?

Unlocking the door with a key attached to a chain, Sebastian entered with the trolley. Sebastian immediately saw Liec laying on the bed with his back towards the door.

"Your lunch, young Liec," Sebastian said. "My master wishes you keep up your strength."

Leic turned, rolled towards Sebastian. "Where is Tanaka? I wish for him to serve me."

"I'm afraid he is unavailable. Men of his age are often struck down with exhaustion."

"Then why do you keep him on if he's unable to comply with his duties?"

"You must ask my master that, but I feel that it is out of respect for his servitude to his father, Vincent Phantomhive. Tanaka is still very capable, however. Do not underestimate him."

Liec sat up, but Sebastian felt the boy was weary, even afraid of him. The fiery spirit the boy once had had been doused slightly. "I do not disagree with that," Liec said.

Sebastian revealed the meal under a silver serving dome, it was a platter of salad with pieces of chicken with yogurt for dessert.

"Leave me, I wish to eat alone." Liec said it as if it were an order.

Sebastian smiled thinly, amused. "Of course. I will retrieve the dishes and trolley later." And he left, locking the door behind him.

An hour later, he returned to Liec's quarters and half expected there to be a repeat demonstration of this morning's tantrum with dishes flying and the room in disarray, but when he knocked on the door, his response was met with silence. He opened the door, and found the dishes were not broken and the room was as he had left it. And young Liec asleep on the bed with his back facing the door. With nothing to do, what else was there to do but rest, Sebastian thought. And besides, with a little ingenuity, he had lightly doused Liec's food with a sedative, to make the young boy's stay here a more quiet one.

He prepared to leave with the trolley when Liec moaned in his sleep. It was not a normal moan, but a restless sound, one that referred to as having a disturbing dream or nightmare.

Sebastian observed the boy for a few moments and the moans continued. What could the boy be dreaming that had his mind so disturbed? At this age, anything could, Sebastian wagered. The human mind was a complex thing filled with a power not even the most epoch of demons understood. It was one of the greatest mysteries of the universe that even humanity itself had yet to fully understand its complexity. And dreams especially.

It was said dreams held an important significance for humans. Without dreaming, the human mind could not rest and restore itself to its full potential for the following day. Without what was known as REM sleep (rapid eye moment) when a human is in his deepest state of sleep, the brain could not organize the events or images accumulated from the day. And on occasion, he had observed his master's crankiness when he had not slept well. Most humans, from what Sebastian had been told, do not remember their dreams. And if they have had a significantly nightmarish dream, the mind had a way of blocking them from reaching the consciousness, locking it way in the subconscious with a kind of lock and key. Unless of course, the human is awakened suddenly, and then the dream slowly fades.

It was one subject Sebastian was fascinated with, and he had spent many a night researching the significance of human dreaming while the household was sleeping. Being a demon, he had little need for rest. And with his master's vast library of books, he had a lot of knowledge on the subject at his finger tips. But there were many theories on what images in dreams meant. Some experts claimed most images in dreams represented wants and desires, and others say, images were just things for the mind to become distracted as the complex organization of the consciousness did its work to file away knowledge accumulated from that day.

Sebastian stood and watched Liec sleep and an amusing thought arose. The subconscious of the human mind was all revealing. What if he could see inside Liec's mind and learn his true origin? He could put to rest, so to speak, the recent mystery of Liec's sudden appearance. Attempting the truth serum once again would be a failure, he knew, what could Liec reveal that Liec himself didn't know?

Removing a gloved hand, he placed a hand on Liec's forehead…

* * *

_He was laying naked on a metal table with a man standing over him in white garb, he seemed to have something in his hand but it was hard to see. Maybe a small surgical blade. The man's face was covered with a surgical mask. He could hear voices outside his sight. A bright light nearly blinded him, and he had to continuously close his eyes so they would not hurt from the sting. He was trapped and unable to move, strapped to the table by leather straps, including a strap across his throat._

_A ceremony was being performed, he could hear. Enchantments performed by others spoken in Latin. He recognized the language. But he was not a part of it. He didn't know where he was, the air was hot, even stifling, and it was hard to breath._

_He heard a young boy scream, and he struggled, wanting to avoid the same fate of the other. _

_He had been brought to a small amphitheatre deep underground, stripped and strapped to this table. But he had been blindfolded when carried here._

_His memory was foggy. He had been given some sort of sedative and it was starting to ease his mind and body into a form of unconsciousness. Why were they doing this? Who were these people?_

_Another man's voice spoke, this time in German, but he had an English accent. The man was not from Germany, he was English, and he spoke to the doctor who stood over the table. The boy only caught fragments of conversion and words he knew in German. He was a tall man and dressed in a white robe, but the catch of black hair did briefly block the blinding light._

_The man smiled, as he looked down. And then spoke in English. The tall man gently stroked a hand through his (boy on the table) hair. "Do be mindful with the boy, doctor. He and Ceil are my greatest creations. They will make the Inner Circle proud one day. Do what must be done."_

_The doctor conceded._

_Then darkness took him._

* * *

Sebastian removed his hand from Liec's forehead. He had dwelled into the boy's dream and saw what the boy had seen through his eyes. The dream only lasted a few minutes, but the boy was still sound asleep on the bed.

It was not a dream, per sa, but a memory, Sebastian concluded. A memory perhaps the boy's subconscious wanted to remember but could not because it was too painful for the boy's consciousness to disclose. A repressed memory, if he recalled the term.

The dream was very interesting. Although it still didn't reveal whether Liec was indeed his master's blood relative, it did disclose some sort of plot against him. And had the other boy's scream been his master just as he was being branded by the Mark of the Beast? The scent of burning flesh was unmistakable. An iron rod with a branding symbol heated in a coal fire then pressed to flesh would make that ghastly smell.

And the tall man the boy saw was indeed Vincent Phantomhive, his master's deceased father.

This had to have happened not long before he appeared to Ceil Phantomhive, Sebastian recalled, and made the contract with his master. But he had not seen this boy in the room with his master at the time. Most likely this doctor had removed Liec before the slaughter of the other members of the Inner Circle began.

Sebastian knew some of the Inner Circle had escaped, or were not present. And Vincent Phantomhive had already left. He had heard their dying screams of the Inner Circle when he started to slaughter them that their brethren would seek revenge. He just didn't know how many were not there when his master gave him the order to murder them all. And this was but one reason why he was still with his master, that he hadn't taken Ceil Phantomhive's soul yet: to be Ceil Phantomhive's butler until all those that hurt him and murdered his parents were dealt with and found. His master had a very vengeful streak.

The last remaining members of the Inner Circle were in hiding. If he could find them, then this farce being chained to a human would be over. But as each day went by, the sadistic nature of his master's heart brought a new hunger which further added to Ceil Phantonhive's hatred. And it was that that gave Sebastian the will to continue to serve his master. Because in the end, he would devour a soul with such wicked energy, that it could sustain his appetite for eons.

But now with the appearance of Liec, this brought a whole new chapter to his master's life, and it was curious how Ceil would react to a rival such as Leic. But not Liec, Sebastian mused with some amusement. This was only the name the boy remembered. He had a real name.

But it would be Sebastian's secret for now, as would the dream. He would tell no one. It was somehow quite entertaining to watch others attempt to place logic where the truth was just out of their knowledgeable reach, but where someone did know and kept it hidden.

And he prided himself on knowing things.

Sebastian rolled the trolley out of Liec's quarters and locked the door, and contemplated on how he could use this new found knowledge to its fullest potential.

**To be continued…**


	8. THE Twain Initiative

**CHAPTER 7 - "THE TWAIN INITIATIVE"**

The mini amphitheatre had been mostly destroyed by an unforeseen force a little less than two years prior. Rumble and ruin filled the void with a chaotic scene that housed scattered bones of their Inner Circle brethren, those of which whom had died in what the remaining members called the Great Death.

The Great Death was still unexplained for the most part, and what information the remaining members - those who could not be at the ceremony on that eventful day that took their brothers in a swirl of blood and destruction by something _otherworldly_ - had yet to be fully pieced together into the puzzle as a whole of what exactly happened. One thing of importance was that in the events that followed, someone had murdered one of the prime members outside this killing field…perhaps in an act of revenge.

Vincent Phantomhive and his wife were members of the Inner Circle, and from dispatches by way of telegram, the ceremony that was to take place was to feature the indoctrination of their son into the fold. But something went horribly wrong. And that was what the Inner Circle could not decipher. What kind of force could do this…ghastliness…to their brethren?

Strangely, Ceil Phantomhive - now twelve years old - did survive the slaughter and was now the last family survivor and the head of his Phantomhive household with a very competent butler in tow. The butler appeared just after the young boy somehow escaped the amphitheatre murders. But in all the confusion, the boy suffered a serious injury that took his right eye. Therefore the boy had to wear a patch in public.

But with observation, the boy - Ceil - had taken up his family's trade as the Queen's loyal guard dog. The Phantomhives's were the kings of the Underworld completing tasks that not even Scotland Yard could solve. Rumors had it the boy even solved the case of Jack the Ripper, but it was inconclusive how. The case, however, did take the life of his beloved aunt, Madam Red, as society's elite called her.

It had not been safe to return until now. And as the six remaining members of the Inner Circle stood around the centre portion of the room, their minions began to clean the amphitheatre so it could be used once more. They considered themselves lucky they had other more considerable arrangements that day, because if they had been with their brethren, then they would be dead as well.

They were the elite of England's few, visionaries on how the nation should be ruled. After the death of King Albert - Queen Victoria was rarely seen in public. England was the centre of the world, they knew, in both commence and industry, and before the Great Death, the Inner Circle had plans to usurp power from the throne…

But everything was put on hold after the Great Death. There were originally seven members of the Inner Circle that survived, but one member took his own life in the belief what the Inner Circle was planning had been heard by God and the Great Death was punishment for their transgressions against the throne. The others cared nothing for religious overture; the Inner Circle was England's true godly overseers, they believed, and the rulers of commence and industry throughout the British Empire. And wealth ruled the world.

It was time to begin again, all agreed. But a complication had arisen.

The _boy_ had escaped!

The six members wore robes of white with the emblem of the Inner Circle emblazoned on the left chest: a snake coiled into itself symbolizing infinity and each wore gold rings on their small finger indicating their acceptance with the Inner Circle emblem.

A thin built man stood proud. He was the more dapper of the group. He had black hair that was slightly graying at the sides and appeared the most controlling. No one used their real names, but used names each had chosen. The man had chosen the name Metcalf and _he_ had assembled the others into the amphitheatre for this meeting after so long.

But he was not the first to speak. Valen was a stout man with thinning hair and he was the most apprehensive about the gathering. He continuously looked around as if watching the dark corners of the amphitheatre lighted by torch light for shadows. He said, "This was not suppose to happen! This is the Doctor's failing!"

William, a medium built man, stood next to Valen with his arms crossed. "I concur, the doctor should have taken more care in caretaking the boy. This could cost us time."

The others muttered to themselves in agreement.

Metcalf spoke again. "Calm yourself, gentleman. The boy merely slipped from his gilded cage. He is retrievable and we do know where he is at the moment."

"With the one person to whom he shalt not be with," said a younger man. Metcalf turned to meet the younger man's eyes, and the man's eyes downtrodden when he was dagger-eyed. The man was the latest to join the Inner Circle, only days before the Great Death. He was a prominent court attorney and a spy for the Inner Circle. "I apologize for my outburst, Metcalf. I _am_ looking into options into getting the boy back. But the two men that were hired to _retrieve_ the boy were recently murdered, as was our associate who hired them when the boy escaped the laboratory."

"The twins," another member of their group said with distain.

Metcalf turned his gaze sharply to the gauntly looking man. He wasn't an old man, but his appearance gave him the look of a man twice his age. His eyes were sunken and he looked malnourished. But he was one of the most prominent leaders in import/export in England and other nations within the British Commonwealth.

"Who gave them orders to kill those men?" he said.

"I did," Metcalf said. "It was the price of failure, and we didn't need them anymore. We found the boy, and at the moment he's exactly where we want him to be."

"What's the boy calling himself: Liec?" asked William.

"The boy gave the name that we chose for him, yes," Metcalf stated.

"Isn't that dangerous?" Valen voiced. "His name is spelled backwards, we didn't give him that name! His memories weren't fully converted and implanted, he's confused and has amnesia. His escape will jeopardize everything we've worked for all these twelve years if he suddenly remembers everything!"

"The doctor has assured me that that will not happen," Metcalf said. "The boy's past has been erased forever from his brain and a new one applied in its place due to whatever process the doctor used."

"He looks just like Ceil Phantomhive, I am told," another man said. He was a plain-looking man. His name was Firo. "The doctor performed cosmetic surgery on the boy, quite remarkable. With exception of the eye patch the young Earl wears, they are twins!"

"Only by sight," Metcalf agreed. "In reality, young Liec will become the rebirth of the Inner Circle, and deliver England to us."

"How? At present, he's near enough worthless to us in the hands of Ceil Phantomhive. The Earl won't let the boy even leave the mansion." William had spoken. "We must get him back to finish the memory implantation. The _Twain Initiative _must be a success or the Inner Circle will be finished."

"We will retrieve the boy, if need be," Metcalf said assuredly.

"This would never have happened if not for the doctor," Valen said, summing up anger. His focus on the discussion usurped his fear of the dancing shadows from the torch light in the amphitheatre. "He was the one who forgot to lock the dog's cage!"

"We owe the doctor a debt, and o not forgot his scientific endeavor in our initiative," Metcalf spoke. "Yes, the boy is the key to our rise to power, but we can not blame the doctor for the boy's escape. We underestimated the boy's intelligence and ingenuity, it must be bred in him by his father. Even with the cage left unlocked and the doctor falling asleep, the boy was able to escape the laboratory housed in the countryside by no mean feat of the imagination. And his programming drew him to the Phantomhive mansion because that's where he belongs." Metcalf smiled. "You see, gentlemen, our plan still strong!"

"The doctor has told me the majority of the memory implantation is in place, but he can not account for the last two years," Firo said. "He has said that to _activate_ the boy: a single phrase must be spoken, one that is not so easily said, and it will only take moments for the Liec to recall all the programming by the doctor for the _Twain Initiative _to begin."

"So we are in agreement, gentleman," Metcalf said clearly.

"We must get close to the boy," William said. "And it must be done with delicate precision. To whom do we send?"

Metcalf said, "The twins, of course. But there must be no failure this time."

The others agreed.

**To be continued…**


	9. Lukas Phantomhive Part 1

**CHAPTER 8 - "LUKAS PHANTOMHIVE - PART 1"**

* * *

Sebastian rapped lightly on Tanaka's quarters door. He had wanted to speak with the elder butler for sometime about certain things that the Undertaker had passed down to him during a conversion in his shop, but had not been able to do so until now. And the majority of the conversion would be about young Liec - or rather Lukas - which was Ceil brother's real name, for which he learned during Lukas's dream.

He had to admit, however, the uncanny and dramatic story ability of the Undertaker; it underscored skepticism in what he had to say as slightly far-fetched. But the fact of the matter was he said Tanaka had been involved in something _ominous_ in regards to the Phantomhive household - a few years back at the time Ceil's parents were murdered and Ceil being kidnapped by the Inner Circle and branded. And Sebastian wondered if Lukas's dream had anything more to bring light to it.

A few moments passed without acknowledgement of his knock.

"Tanaka, are you there?" he asked, then knocked again.

Without an answer, he wrapped a hand around the door knob, turning it. Normally the door would be locked, and Tanaka had the only key to his own quarters, but strangely, Sebastian was able to open it without restriction, and entered.

He had seen Tanaka's quarters only a handful of times, but it was of no surprise that it was immaculately clean and organized. Tanaka was a credit to his chosen profession.

It was a large room with an adjacent water closet. The bed was at the far end of the room under a tall and wide, half-moon bay window. Book shelves stood on either side of the room, filled top to bottom on a variety of subjects, and in one corner of the room, stood a modest, polished-to-shine, oak desk. The surface was empty at the moment except for one book - a daily diary Sebastian knew Tanaka liked to keep.

Sebastian respected Tanaka's privacy and knew he shouldn't be in here without the old man's permission, but he had an urge to look around the room hoping to find some clue to Tanaka's involvement with Lukas's disappearance years ago. But without rummaging through things, Tanaka would know that someone had been in here if even one thing was out of place. The man noticed things. Despite his chosen profession, or because of it, Tanaka was a notorious neatest.

Sebastian poised to leave, to ask Tanaka a few questions at a later time when he saw him, when he spotted the diary again, and curiosity got the better of him. He picked it up and flipped to a random page, and it just so happened to be of the date that young Lukas first appeared at the mansion.

He read it:

* * *

_March 7, 1889_

"_I am taken aback at the turn of events today; I am equally aghast at the atrocity that I witnessed beyond what I ever thought anyone could do... _

_It has been more than two years since last I have seen him, but the young master is back. Lukas, Ceil's fraternal brother, has finally returned home. Where has he been, I wonder?_

_His face is changed. The young master was afflicted with a terrible disease that deformed Lukas's face when he was younger, and he was hidden from the public eye for a great many years by his parents. While the surgery I see is remarkable beyond anything I could have imagined for him - Lukas has a beautiful face - I do not understand the reason why _THIS _face! Why Ceil's face? _

_And now Lukas has no memory of his past or even of his own brother? What did the doctor do to him?_

_This is not what we wished for. We wanted to help the young master, his parents and I. We were told that the young master would receive the utmost care and civility; that BK_ _would treat the master like one of his own children, with the most favorable plastic surgery available. As BK took a liking to the family, it was to be free of charge despite an expensive procedure, as he knew people with the skills to help Lukas._

_Later we were told the young master had died when the surgery was unsuccessful, and Vincent took young Ceil to a medium to hinder his memories of his brother using hypnosis because the young master was severely crestfallen. With the process over a number of weeks, Ceil forgot everything about his brother, and I was told to hide all of Lukas's belongings and portraits of the family done with them all included._

_Unfortunately later, they all were burned in the fire that took the original Phantomhive mansion, more than two years ago. So I am the only one left who remembers the young master._

_Or so I was lead to believe. It seems that someone does know about Lukas's lineage; those men on horseback that Sebastian chased away off the property were obviously hired by someone to _retrieve _Lukas and return him from wherever he has been these last couple of years. Lukas explained he was drawn back to the mansion on instinct, as if he _knew _where his home was. So some of Lukas's original memories must still remain despite being erased by some reason only to those who did it to him. I just hope with time, he will remember who he is…_

_Lukas was stolen away from us, but now he is back, and I will make it my mission in life to keep him with us. I will not allow anyone to take him away again! But I cannot tell young Ceil or the others about who Lukas - Liec as they know him - really is. Young Ceil has already suffered so much, with his parents murders and being kidnapped and tortured by people unknown. The deception of his parents in erasing his memories of his brother would devastate the respect Ceil has for them. A time will come when the truth will have to be revealed, but hopefully only when the young master has acquired a respected relationship with his brother; then, maybe, young Ceil can handle what his parents had to do to him to help him forget the tragedy that we all thought had happened…_

_I still do not know the full extent of what Ceil experienced during his captivity by those who kidnapped and tortured him, and as a result his right eye was blinded - he has never spoken to me about it; he is tight-lipped - and how he escaped, and how he came to acquire the services of Sebastian Michaels as a butler; but in a way I am grateful that young Ceil has Sebastian. The man has helped the boy in many ways, in his greatest time of need - giving Ceil a parental figure that I could not give the boy, calming his anger against those who killed his parents and harmed him. _

_Perhaps Sebastian can also help Ceil deal with the return of his fraternal brother as well, like a father does a son. The happy boy that I once knew is gone, and in his place a bitter young man. Ceil stands strong in the face of adversity regardless of a boy's natural fears, but despite the young master's cold façade, Ceil looks up to Sebastian for guidance like a father, and in exchange, Sebastian helps Ceil to grow, and educates him, loves him, to follow in his father's footsteps. They seem to share a special bond that I could never achieve with the young master. When I am gone, I hope Sebastian stands by Ceil's side until the end._

_But I worry for the young master. Ceil is alone in the world. No child should feel abandoned in this cruel, unfeeling world we live in. Thank God for Sebastian."_

* * *

Sebastian mused over Tanaka's words for a few long moments. They were both shocking and revealing. He had never considered himself as a father figure to Ceil. Only eventual food to devour.

_It is obvious Tanaka thinks a lot of me_, Sebastian thought. But he had no guilt. What he was doing, his servitude to Ceil Phantomhive, was nothing more than to get what he wanted. They had a contract, and in the end, Sebastian would get Ceil's wicked soul as he sought out revenge on those who murdered his parents and tortured him. And the longer he waited, the darked Ceil's soul grew, and the more delicious his soul would taste as Sebastian lavished it up.

He flipped through future entries of the diary, but Tanaka never wrote of Lukas or BK again. But the entry did confirm one thing the Undertaker had spoken to Sebastian about, and that was Vincent Phantomhive and his wife had indeed had two sons - _fraternal_ twin boys.

Fraternal twins did not necessarily look alike, and when thought of were normally a boy and a girl. Fraternal twin boys were very rare. They _were_ similar in appearance, but not identical with only slight differences varying on the genes of their parents. And with this disease Lukas contracted at an early age -the exact age was undetermined, only that according to the diary entry, Lukas had been hidden away from the public for a number of years, before ten years of age - they obviously would not be anywhere similar.

Sebastian could imagine a multitude of diseases that would riddle a human's face, from boils to other ghastly deformities. In the millions of years it took for humanity to become civilized, the human gene pool has mutated, and some unfortunate souls are still subjected to the genes of their ancient ancestors, living with deformities or growths passed down by their parents by an unforeseeable gene now reactivated but are not necessary to the human gene pool.

Sebastian could only think of one reason to hide young Lukas from the public. Shame. Having a child with a deformity was an abomination, said to be brought about by the _Devil, _and that the child is considered cursed; that the child suffers because of something the parents have done to sin against God. The Phantomhive's had a reputation to uphold. They could not be seen with a deformed child.

However, do to the nature of the Phantomhive family, and what _his master_ now has to contend with, in following in his family's undertaking as the _royal guard dog_, to eliminate threats to the throne - and his contract to a devil - Sebastian had no doubt that his master and the family name of Phantomhive was indeed cursed, but in a reverent sort of way.

Sebastian had lived for many thousands of years, and in his time, he had been heeded to many untruths about humanity's beliefs. People were afraid of what they did not understand, and if science could not explain it, it was religious chastisement. He would never know what afflicted Lukas's face, but as for him, he was not cursed, only unfortunate.

Tanaka's diary put to rest to Sebastian's suspicions that the old man had something to do with Ceil's parents' deaths; Ceil being kidnapped and branded; and the disappearance of Lukas, believing the boy had died during surgery. The old man was innocent. But he still believed Tanaka knew things that were not spoken here, and he still wanted to speak with Tanaka to clear the air of other things.

Sebastian had killed most of the _Inner Circle _when called upon by his master for what they'd done to him, kidnapping him, branding him with the Mark of the Beast. But he still needed to track the rest down. But in good time.

Lukas's dream had inconsistencies, he now thought. Vincent Phantomhive had been killed before Ceil was branded, and Lukas had supposedly _died_ before weeks before. So Lukas's dream was…_wrong._

The dream itself was therefore distorted with untruths.

_Brainwashing, _Sebastian concluded. And it was clear Tanaka thought it to, by the "doctor" he mentioned.

Could the brainwashing have affected Lukas's memories to a point that even his subconscious dreams were also affected? The mind was complex, but it also very fragile. What Lukas thought he remembered may be just a series of jumbled memories distorted together to form one because of the brainwashing, much like scrambled eggs; once whole, but then broken and re-blended to make the parts whole again.

But had Lukas been present for Ceil's branding two years ago? Had he been in _that_ amphitheatre. And had Ceil been _that _boy who screamed, that Sebastian had heard in Lukas's dream? Or had it been _someone else_? And if Vincent Phantomhive was already dead, who was it that Lukas saw leaning over him while Lukas was strapped to the table who looked like his father?

Sebastian looked back into the dream. He had a photographic memory and could recall everything seen and heard. The doctor holding the small blade dressed in white garb, perhaps about to perform the cosmetic surgery on Lukas's face…the other man leaning over Lukas, the light momentarily distorted by shadow to bring his face slightly into view…

_"Do be mindful with the boy, doctor. He and Ceil are my greatest creations. They will make the Inner Circle proud one day. Do what must be done."_

_No, this part is true, _Sebastian believed. This was truly Vincent Phantomhive leaning over the table _before_ the surgery, _before_ he was told Lukas had died, and weeks _before_ what happened to him, his wife, and Ceil. The parental feeling from Lukas was astute. In retrospect, what Vincent Phantomhive had said was nothing of a sinister nature, despite it sounding as such, instead it was of a caring one. With plastic surgery, Lukas would be able to enjoy social life again.

The Undertaker had mentioned the Phantomhive's were secretive in their personal lives.

The only person anyone really knew about was the socialite businessman, the good-hearted, kind and respected Vincent Phantomhive who organized lavish dinner parties and engagements for London's elite.

But everyone had secrets. And it was no surprise when Sebastian learned of the Inner Circle for which Vincent Phantomhive was a member and that his family was the Queen's guard dog, subjected to remove any unsavory interest towards the royal throne. This incidentally may have been Vincent Phantomhive's downfall by one or a collective few of the Inner Circle who sought revenge against the man for _something_. And then orchestrated the entire murder of his family, including Ceil, thus ending the Phantomhive linage, discrediting him by discrediting the Phantomhive name, that they were Devil worshippers. This he concluded by the Mark of the Beast the Inner Circle branded on Ceil Phantomhive.

But then Ceil Phantomhive called out to a _demon_, and the contract for his soul was signed in blood. And Sebastian murdered all those involved in the branding ceremony. He did not remember a doctor or a boy strapped to a table in the amphitheatre at the time, or he would have killed the doctor too. And maybe the boy…

He could not break through the fog of the dream. What Lukas remembered was all he could see and hear. His memories were distorted. And even if he attempted to dwell back into Lukas's mind while he was sleeping and find the dream again, it wouldn't help. He would see the same thing. Someone had really messed with Lukas's mind.

But, for what purpose?

**To be continued…**


	10. Interlude

Author's note:

A long chapter. This chapter takes place between Part 1 and Part 2 of the "Lukas Phantomhive" chapters and is important to explain certain things in the next chapter and falls back to the events of the Prologue. Part 2 of the "Lukas Phantomhive" chapter will be posted later. Please review. And I'm sorry about spelling Ciel wrong earlier.

This chapter also explains more about Samuel and Sasha Ironstadt.

* * *

**CHAPTER 9 - "INTERLUDE"**

December 24th, 1882

The streets of London were cold and dark, everything was blanketed with a thin wintery coat of snow. It had just fallen, draping the city with an angelic quality against the urban backdrop of the cityscape.

But beneath this, lain a depravity and seediness that not even Vincent Phantomhive could wrap his mind around and for which the Queen wanted an end put to - the kidnapping and sometimes brutal murder of innocent children at the hands of a crazed psychopathic killer who sought pleasure in other's misfortune.

Only the man's deeds were known, not his identity. But he did have a hive of minions who did his dirty work; and Vincent and his wife had had tangled on occasion with this man's organized assemblage of mercenaries and assassins when conducting missions for the Queen as her watchdog over the years. Vincent hated this sort of scum most of all, because how could anyone harm a sweet child? Even the Inner Circle wanted this man hunted down and killed for their own children's safety. But despite the collective effort of all those involved, secretly or otherwise including Scotland Yard, the man still remained at large.

The Queen had ordered Vincent and his wife to seek him out tonight, in a hideout where this psychopath was supposedly hiding, a warehouse in an abandoned part of the old shipyards next to the Thames River. A very reliable source had placed him here tonight.

Tonight, of all nights. Vincent mentally scowled.

It was Christmas Eve. Vincent Phantomhive was already in a fowl mood having to leave and disappoint his son Ciel tonight. The night when Saint Nicholas came to all the good little boys and girls to grant them wishes of good tiding and cheer with presents. He asked Tanaka, his butler, if he could look after Ciel tonight, and the old man willingly obliged. Ceil wailed and cried for Vincent to stay. But he couldn't, he was the Queen's watchdog, with a vow to safeguard London from criminals that sought to usurp the Crown. Vincent's crowning joy was his family and the worse thing he wanted was to see on his happy son's face with a frown.

Vincent had also planned to visit Ciel's twin in the hospital this night. Lukas had been afflicted with a terrible unknown disease at an early age that affected his face causing the skin to ripple and bubble with valleys of bumps. The disease had appeared to subside, but it still left lasting scars on Lukas's face that would not go away naturally.

He had asked Byron Kelvin, a well-respected aristocrat and a close personal friend of the Phantomhive family, to see if anything could be done to help his son. Lord Kelvin assured Vincent he could, as he had close tides with a multitude of renown doctors and plastic surgeons who were in the top of the field. He promised to make Lukas the most beautiful boy he ever could be, just like Ciel.

Vincent hoped for the best. He had very much wanted to see his son tonight. Lukas was in hospital being prepared for the surgery that was to take place in a few days.

For this outrage, for making him disappoint both his sons tonight, Vincent vowed he would make this crazed psychopath pay. And not only for all the children the man had harmed, but also to protect his own - he did not want to see Ciel or Lukas kidnapped. Tonight will be the end of it, he vowed. He'll drag this butcher to the very caverns of Hell! A man like this didn't deserve to live.

_He'll have no trail; the only deliverance for London from this man's atrocities will be a bullet to the skull from my gun._

The waft of death filled his nostrils as he and his wife came across the corpse of a dead homeless man dressed in a trench coat and holey boots laying in front of the warehouse they were approaching on the docks. The man looked like he had died of the cold. His body was partially iced over with snow crystals and some of his skin had been eaten by feral animals. But with closer examination, he had been shot. There was a dried blood stain on his inner shirt.

Rachel crouched down and looked the man over. Coming from a noble family of physicians, she had medical knowledge and could determine the time of death. "Judging by the decomposition of the body, he was killed little more than twenty-four hours ago," she said. She stood up. "And at close range. He was murdered. Perhaps he learned something he shouldn't have."

Vincent nodded. "Time to eradicate the vermin of this house," he said firmly.

"We are like poison for this den of rats."

Vincent agreed.

He walked to the two large doors of the warehouse. They were closed, but not locked. With his gun in one hand and a hand gesture for his wife to stand back, he slowly pulled a door aside to peak inside. The door hinges creaked with an ill-omened loudness that could alert anyone listening…

And suddenly shots rang out.

He jerked back, pulling his wife behind him. Bullets embedded themselves in the inside of the door close to him. With a constant barrage of fire Vincent backed up either further.

"Not a very warm welcome for guests," Vincent said.

"Did you expect cookies and milk, dear?"

Vincent smirked at his wife's levity. They had been on so many of these missions that they implored a commonsensical rapport to offset the tension. She knew how to make him smile even at stressful times and he welcomed it. But joking aside, they needed at way to disarm this guardsman and get in the warehouse. And he had an idea.

With a silent gesture of his hand, a gesture he and his wife had developed, he indicated for his wife to circle around the warehouse to try to find another way in, a back way, while he stayed to draw the guardsman fire.

As she left him, he fired back at the guardsman and took more fire, hiding behind the corner of the building. A napsack that he wore had an array of tools and other things that would be useful here, including explosives, but he opted to merely exchange gunfire with the guardsman for the moment until his wife could equal the odds. One shot from him equaled rapid fire from the other. Vincent knew the guardsman had a rifle that could fire multiple shots at once. He knew this because he knew several weapons manufactures.

A hired thug, that's all this guardsman was. It made Vincent sick to think that money motivated these people into harboring such a sick and perverted killer. Like the Pi Piper of the children's story, this killer lured these children away and did unspeakable harm to them. Over the last couple of months, the man had been more active, and children had being returned after parents pleas. But dead. With severe injuries. Blunt force trauma to the head, severe lacerations, broken bones, and other unspeakable injuries that Vincent didn't wish to recall. All of them added to the collected reports on this yet still unidentified psychopath.

A shot reached Vincent's position too close for comfort and he backed further away. The guardsman had obviously altered his position for a more viable shot. Probably taking into account the position of his enemy's shots, Vincent thought. The guardsman had changed his angle proportionately.

Rachel had been gone longer than expected, the warehouse wasn't incredibly large and it wouldn't take long to circle around and find a back entrance, and he feared something had gone wrong. What if she had been captured or worse shot by a hidden threat? No, he would not let those dark thoughts distract him. He had faith in his wife. She had never failed him the past. When she married him, she knew what she would be getting into to, and she accepted it willfully. She would be his partner in marriage and as the Queen's watchdog. And over the years she had made both partnerships a blessing.

Vincent heard a single shot, then a loud thud - that of the weight of a man hitting the ground after being hit. And then a second thud?

_Rachel?_

"All clear," said Rachel.

Vincent came around the door and joined his wife inside the warehouse, and saw two men laying motionless on the ground. He smiled. The first was the guardsman who had shot at them, and the second man - a second guardsman - who he hadn't known about, killed by his wife with a knife throw to the heart.

He looked up at two platforms where the guardsmen had been stationed on either side of the building, planks attached to the edges of the frontal warehouse wall. Each had excellent vantage points of the warehouse doors. With a single shot, either one of them could pick off their target dead without the victim even knowing it if they ventured in unknowingly.

And that's probably what happened to the homeless man out front. He ventured where he wasn't suppose to be. Thus proving the information of tonight from an informant was genuine. The man they sought was here.

He asked her how she managed to kill the guardsmen, and Rachel told him how she managed to find a broken board in the side of the warehouse, squeezed through, sneaked under the first guardsman, killed him with a single gunshot with her gun, then killed the other with a well angled knife throw.

Vincent nodded pleased. "A difficult venture and perfectly executed." He smiled. "Very well done, Rachel." She smiled back. "Now, onwards into the lion's den. I wager this is only the first hurtle we are to face here."

Together they carried on into the dark, dank warehouse where they knew other dangers awaited them.

* * *

A young man held a phone receiver to his right ear and spoke to the person on the other end. "They're here, sir. The guardsmen failed. Instructions?" The man listened for a bit and them replied, "Understood." He nodded to his twin brother across the room of the foreman office who had been looking out the open bay window to the floor below, now eyeing his brother as he hung up the phone. "Kill the Queen's watchdogs."

His brother smiled broadly as he held a mechanical device in his hand, a control box with buttons and a lever that was attached to a thick black cable. It controlled a mechanical claw situated in the centre of the warehouse overlooking the work floor below. In its grip was a net filled with iron ore and other metallic debris left since the warehouse business closed down ages ago. The warehouse handled the distribution of metal, brought here by trucks and stored until shipped elsewhere by boat.

Sasha Ironstadt eyed the claw as it moved into position via a ceiling conveyer above the supposedly covert Phantomhive couple. It was surprisingly quiet for not having been used in years, but that was poor luck for the Phantomhive's. What they can't hear will kill them.

Samuel Ironstadt came over to the window and watched as the claw moved stealthily and slowly into position above its unsuspecting prey, their forms illuminated by moonlight from the open warehouse doors. When released, it would squash them like insects, carve up their bodies like knives as each metallic piece cut them to ribbons. It would be the perfect bloody murder making even the notorious prostitute killer Jack the Ripper proud. And, unlike the story of Hansel and Gretel, the Phantomhive's had no chance of escape!

With a nod by Samuel, Sasha pressed the release button. Seconds passed without the claw releasing its load, and Sasha thumbed the button repeatedly. Either their was a malfunction in the device or there was an unsuspected delay in released. He didn't know. But then there was a metallic screech from the rotator wheel and the claw fingers released its load.

However, the few seconds that the claw took to open and the noise it made gave the Phantomhive's the means to avoid the debris, making a hasty retreat to either side of the drop zone. The iron ore and other metal objects came crashing down on the spot the Phantomhive's had previously been filling the warehouse with a multitude of ear-shattering crashes, kicking up dirt and dust.

The twins watched from above, trying to pin point their targets. But the thickness of the dirt and dust made it near impossible to see anything on the floor below. When things finally cleared, the Phantomhive's were no where to be seen. But the twins knew they were still alive. For a few seconds of delay and a noisy claw, despite the quiet conveyer that positioned it, they had failed to kill the Queen's watchdogs.

"The squeaking wheel…"

"Didn't get the oil."

They both sneered angrily. Nonetheless, they weren't done. They still had another idea that would _not_ fail.

"If the Phantomhive's care so much for the children, Sasha…"

"Then let's let them see them, Samuel."

"Send in the troops!" they said in unison.

* * *

Vincent coughed as he caught his breath. The dust began to clear from their narrowing escape in nearly being crushed beneath tons of iron ore and metal dropped from a carry claw strategically moved into position by an unseen enemy. Due to a screech of its gears, they were able to jump out of the way. Just barely. Rachel was not with him, choosing to sprint in the opposite direction to avoid the debris.

"Rachel!" he called out, no longer carrying if the enemy knew they were here. Which they did. "Where are you?" The warehouse had become darker. The gaze of moonlight that they were using to see had dimmed behind cloud cover casting the inside of the warehouse previous basked in sapphire light to near darkness. He didn't want to use his torch for fear it would give them away. Now it didn't matter.

"Vincent," she called back. "I'm fine. Follow my voice."

Vincent climbed to his feet and followed her voice as she continued to direct him to her. She was on the ground near the far wall. She seemed dazed, but otherwise unhurt. He didn't see any broken bones. She did, however, have a deep laceration to the left side of her forehead, perhaps from a flying piece of debris. He reached into his pack and took out a handkerchief and pressed it to the bleeding wound.

"That was no accident," she said.

"I know. It was meant to kill us."

"I get the feeling someone doesn't want us here."

A thin smile crossed Vincent's face. His wife's levity in the face of adversity was boundless. But now was not the time for jokes. Whoever was responsible for this would be paid back ten fold, Vincent vowed. Especially after hurting his wife.

He said, "Stay here, I'll look around." He took out a torch from his pack and turned it on. The warehouse was now bathed in the glow of a yellow luminescence.

Rachel clutched his arm as he started to get to his feet. He looked back with concern. "Be careful," she said. "they're killers. They have no remorse. I don't want Ciel and Lukas to become fatherless if you go off and do something stupid."

Despite the seriousness in her eyes, Vincent produced a smile to alleviate her fears. "Trust me, I'll be careful." In his other hand he held his gun, cocked and ready with six shots.

Leaving his wife temporarily he moved to the centre of the warehouse shining his torch in every direction, focusing then on the foreman office where he suspected the culprit of the attempted murder had resided.

He ran up the stairs and kicked in the door, but the room was empty except for a phone on a wooden desk and a control box that he knew controlled the claw that dropped the debris, and it was turned on. But the culprit was probably long gone, and if so, so was the man they had come to apprehend. Therefore, it was clear that the mission had ended. _They knew we were coming_ _and they had planned to kill us, _he thought.

Leaving the foreman office, he walked back the stairs and back to his wife. She hadn't moved, laying on the ground, still pressing the handkerchief to her forehead. "Time to go," he said, helping her up. "It was a trap. Our target has moved on."

Suddenly the entire warehouse lit up with a brightness that momentarily blinded Vincent and his wife. Someone had just turned on the lights. Focusing, Vincent turned to see standing on the balcony of the foreman office stairs he had just come from were two young men dressed in white with blonde hair. Twins.

Vincent instantly recognized them. Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt. English born, but German by lineage. They were young, fifteen, but they were two of the most cold blooded serial murderers ever born. Compared to them, Jack the Ripper was an amateur in his murdering of prostitutes in White Castle.

The entire criminal underworld knew of these twin mercenaries for hire. They had murdered their parents in cold blood, because they want to know what it felt like to kill someone, and that was at age ten. Now at fifteen, they were renown for their murderous ways, killing at least twenty people as far as Vincent knew. Most recently, a well known crown attorney who was prosecuting a man for killing his wife. The man had suspected ties to the mafia, and if found guilty would spend life in jail. Now after the murder of the crown attorney, the case was put on hold; but the man was out on bond.

If the man whom the Queen wanted dead for the kidnapping of children had hired these two "kids", then things were in much dire straits than Vincent originally thought.

Vincent pointed his gun at the brothers, sneering, his finger firmly situated on the trigger. He would do the world a great justice by killing these kids right here. But the twin brothers didn't flinch from Vincent targeting them, they weren't even afraid of his gun. Sasha leaned on the balcony barrister while Samuel stood up straight with one hand on a hip, and both were smiling. And yet unarmed as he could see.

"I suggest, Phantomhive, that you put that gun down," Samuel said.

"I should kill you both right now for all the lives you've taken. You're both demon seed!"

Sasha laughed. "It all depends on which side of the coin you're on, watchdog," he said. "And you'd probably want to do as my brother says. Turn around."

Vincent took a brief glance over his left shoulder, then completed a turn, wide-eyed, as he saw his wife held captive by children pointing firearms at her. Four of them, three boys and one girl. They were no more than between the ages of eight to ten to twelve. By the look in their eyes, they had been brainwashed. Controlled by an unseen force. And one of them he immediately recognized. Richard Thompson III, the grandson of a Magistrate, who had been kidnapped just last month.

His father offered a large reward for the return of his son. The boy had vanished without a trace in the backyard of their mansion in Brighton. If Vincent survived this, at least he could go to the boy's father and tell him he had seen his son alive and there was hope. And if things went even better, he could even take the boy back along with the rest of the children.

But however these children were brainwashed showed in their eyes that they could not be reasoned with. They were under the complete control of their master like puppets and the twins held the strings. Regardless of the seemingly futility of the effort, Vincent begged to try.

He put his gun down and focused on Richard. "Please boy, please put the gun down. Your father begs for your return. He misses her very much."

The twins came down the stairs and now stood close enough but still far away from Vincent's grasp, obviously to witness the drama. "You're wasting your breath, Phantomhive," Sasha said. "He can't hear you. His memory is gone. He obeys only us now, as do the rest of the children."

"What do you mean his memory is gone?"

"Erased," Samuel explained. "Who he was is gone, or as far as the Doctor has told us. Richard Thompson III is no more. He's simply known as number fifteen, given a numerical name, like all the rest of them. This boy is number seven, this other boy is number eighteen, and the girl is number six."

Vincent figured the numbers each were given might indicate the order in which they were taken, or perhaps the numbers reused. Some children had been missing for months, even years. And some children had even ended up dead, found in ditches and in streets with horrible injuries. And strangely, some self-inflicted. And now Vincent knew why. The children had been brainwashed, and by the wishes of their master, would obey any command given to them. He hoped that didn't mean even killing themselves?

"That's sick and perverted! Why would someone do this to an innocent child!"

"Ours is not the question why," Sasha said.

"Orders by _your_ master?" Vincent said hotly. "These are children for Heaven's sake!"

Both brothers laughed as if finding Vincent's reaction to the situation amusing, but the use of children like pawns in a game that didn't concern them was not funny to Vincent.

"You murdered your parents in cold blood," Vincent said. "You're just as twisted as your master!"

"Our parents, Phantomhive," Samuel started, "we're cruel and callous people. We put an end to them as is our right when a wrong has been done to the children."

"Your parents were well respected in London, kind and considerate. They volunteered their time to charity groups, hosted diner parties in your home to raise funds for the less fortunate, and donated money to - "

"They ignored us!" Sasha said. "They spent all their time with other people, leaving us alone. Then we meant a man who promised us everything we ever wanted. And hence five years later, we do."

"You're mass murderers. Is that really what you wanted? Release these children!" Vincent demanded. "Don't let this man _you_ obey enslave them. What can be done can be undone. Their memories can be restored with help."

Sasha put his hands on his hips and sighed. "Apparently you're not listening, Phantomhive," he said with some annoyance. "Perhaps a little demonstration is in order to facilitate just how much power we hold over these children. That what _has_ been done, will _not_ be undone."

"Number fifteen," Samuel said. "Point your gun at your head and fire."

Richard Thompson III raised his weapon to his head…

"Nooo!"

Vincent screamed in protest, and even Rachel tried to stop Richard, but within seconds the boy was dead by a gun shot to his head, blood oozing out of his brain as his body dropped to the ground. There was no hesitation, no willingness to save his own life. The brainwashing the boy had had was just too great.

Vincent saw Rachael put her hands to her mouth and tears began to fall down her cheeks. Despite being the Queen's watchdog with him and having killed many people all in the name of the throne, apparently seeing a child kill himself so callously in cold blood was too much for her, especially if the same thing could be used on their own children if ever kidnapped by these monsters.

Vincent was saddened, but equally angry. Enraged, he turned to the twins, gripped his gun firmly in his hand, and began to raise it, when suddenly two children took aim at him to protect _their_ masters at the moment, the two boys. Rachel was still held at gun point by the girl.

"You see, Phantomhive, there is no way you can save any of these children," Sasha said. "They are in essence _our_ master's playthings to do as he sees fit. He loves children. We don't question his motives. We just deliver the goods."

"You kidnapped these children?"

The twins nodded.

"And allow us to now take our leave," Samuel said, "so you can play with them."

_Play with them?_

The twins took their leave, and Vincent could do nothing but watch them walk towards a backdoor in the warehouse. The two boys with their guns maneuvered themselves to act as a shield to let them leave. Vincent couldn't shoot or risk of harming the children. In all likelihood, one of the boys would probably throw himself into the shot to save his masters, brainwashed to do so.

Just before leaving, Samuel turned back and said, "The name is this game is called target practice. The object of the game is to avoid getting killed. But we'll give you're a sporting chance. You have ten seconds before the children start shooting. Your time starts…now."

They laughed before the single backdoor slammed behind them, and Vincent immediately refocused his attention on the children with their guns pointed at him and Rachel.

Without hesitation, he grabbed Rachel, who had seemingly recovered from the shock of Richard shooting himself, and they began to run towards the open warehouse doors from which they had come. He knew there would be no reasoning with the children - the brainwashing was just too strong, especially if it was enough to make a helpless child shoot himself. So their only option was to run!

Seconds later, the sound of gunfire began to reign the air.

**To be continued.**


	11. Lukas Phantomhive Part 2

**CHAPTER 10 - "LUKAS PHANTOMHIVE - PART 2"**

Leic looked out the bay window of his new quarters. He thought about smashing through the glass and escaping into the countryside, but then what? The Phantomhive property was vast, and he had no where to go. Even though he felt like a prisoner in the Phantomhive mansion, he opted to stay of his own volition, and vowed to behave.

But he felt disturbed, as if his mind had been…invaded…if that was the right word for it. Ever since he had awoken this morning, it had been a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. It felt like someone had entered his dreams and had viewed them through his own eyes. He couldn't remember what he dreamt, but the feeling of this _other_ presence inside him last night lingered in his mind like a disease. And it felt evil.

To counteract this feeling, he tried to calm himself. He was sitting cross-legged on the bay window ledge with his arms over his knees in a mediated position. He felt natural doing this, as if he had done it many times before - or had it taught to him. He could control his breathing and alleviate any anxiety he felt. And the serenity of the rolling hills and grasslands he saw outside the window helped his mind calm and focus.

In the distance he saw the ruins of the own Phantomhive mansion, or part of it, sitting undisturbed near the river that surrounded the property. The nearly destroyed stone structured wall that he saw had a buttress half moon carved window with Roman architecture style to it much like the colossal Coliseum of Rome, that once played host to thousands of specters and hundreds of games, all to witness gladiatorial sport.

Suddenly his head ached with pain and he put his hands up clutching it. It was as if seeing that stone structure triggered something in his mind. His mind was foggy, but he couldn't get over the feeling that he had visited the Italian country at one point in his life. And it wasn't on a vacation.

He saw a man's face wide-eyed with concern as the muzzle of a gun was pointed at him. The man was a tall, young gentleman with short black hair and with a few days worth of stumble on his face dressed in English attire. He looked an assassin, dressed all in black. The man's back was pressed against a stone wall of the Coliseum of Rome.

Liec felt like _he_ was the person holding the gun at the man. But he had never held a gun in his life, or so he could recall. And yet this didn't feel like a dream, more like a memory.

There was something familiar about this man; he _had_ committed a crime against someone Liec knew, but Liec couldn't remember what the man had done to deserve such a strong feeling of betrayal in Liec pointing a gun at him. Yet his emotions were so fiercely strong, as if the man had hurt a family member of his. Liec had his finger pressed around the trigger of the gun feeling no remorse of killing this man. It was like something was driving him on, and there was a soft voice in his mind speaking to him "_Kill the man, your master commands you…number six…_"

A hard knocking at his quarters door shook him out of his thoughts, and the suddenness of it almost made him fall over. He caught himself and twisted 180 degrees quickly, planting his feet on the floor.

He would be polite, he told himself. They would come, how could he stop them? Whoever it was had the only key to the lock of his door. "Come in," he said.

The key unlocked the door and it opened. Standing at the threshold was the last person he ever expected to see. And he frowned, seeing Ciel. But he didn't have his creepy butler with him.

"You're not welcome here," Liec said, all politeness removed.

Ciel smiled, as if amused by the hollow demand of Liec's words. "This is my home, Leic, I go where I please, and where I please to go is here, to speak with you."

Leic turned his back on his brother. "I have nothing to say to you. Get out!"

Moments passed without Ciel saying anything. "You are not acting like a true Phantomhive. Mother and Father would welcome anyone into their home regardless of their nature."

Liec turned around. "You've done little of that! Ever since I arrived here, you've accused me of scandalization and conspiracy. If anyone is acting ill- naturely, it's you! I don't know what happened to you, but you're a bitter person because of it."

Ciel clenched a fist at his side. "Murderers butchered my family, burned down my home, and tortured me! How do you think I should react? With forgiveness and with sincerity? Should I just accept it? No! I will find those responsible and I will get my reprisal! And now, I find out I have a twin brother I never knew about. There are secrets abroad. And I've been thinking of what to do with you."

"Just let me leave and I'll stay out of your life forever."

"I can't do that. I want answers first. Like why Mother and Father kept us apart."

"If I knew that, I would tell you! But if that's what you came here to learn, you're mistaken. I don't know. And I don't remember _your_ mother and father. I do remember a kind man, however, who cared for me when I was very ill. But other than that, my memory is foggy."

"Describe this man," Ciel demanded.

"I don't remember!"

"You don't remember or you won't remember!"

"I will not be interrogated like this!"

"Then tell me what I want to know!"

"Stuff it!"

Ciel clenched his teeth from the insult. "Fine! If you believe you're a prisoner in my mansion, then you'll stay one until you tell me what I want to know! And don't even think of escaping, my servants will stop you!" Ciel left, slamming the door.

The sound of the door startled Liec slightly, but he wasn't daunted by Ciel's threat. And he wasn't lying that he didn't know anything about his past. He was just as frustrated as his brother by all this. But he wasn't totally convinced they _were_ brothers despite looking alike. There was just something…not right.

He crossed the room to a wall mirror and gazed at his reflection. Except for an eye patch, this was his brother's face - this was _his_ face. And yet, for some unexplained reason, it felt…wrong. He couldn't wrap his mind around it. It felt like he was wearing a mask. But a permanent one. Or could it just be that he hated his brother and didn't want to look like him?

Ciel Phantomhive was resentful. He was raised in a house of privilege and wealth, and he could do a lot of good for the people of London. But all he seemed to care about was vengeance against those who murdered his parents. Liec wasn't told what had happened.

_My parents? _Leic thought. _No, my father was a kind and considerate man who cared for his family, his extended family - all his adopted children. Quite a lot, I recall._

He yearned for his father's embrace now. He was scared all alone in this strange place. _His_ father always knew what to say to bring happiness back to his heart, and he always had a hug to comfort his children.

Liec tried hard to remember his father's face, even his name, but his memory would not let him.

* * *

Sebastian was waiting for Tanaka inside his room when the elder butler returned. Sebastian had taken the desk chair and sat patiently in the middle of the room facing the door for the man's arrival. As a demon, he was very patient. In waiting to devour his master's soul, he had proven such. He had been waiting almost an hour for Tanaka, not even knowing when he would return…

Before reading Tanaka's diary, Sebastian thought the questions he had for the man could wait until later. But, in learning Liec, or rather Lukas Phantomhive, had been thought dead and was instead possibly kidnapped by someone Tanaka knew from the Phantomhive's past, he opted to forego any professional niceties of invading Tanaka's room and demand some well needed answers.

Sebastian had a duty to his master, and if it lead sooner to learning the true nature of Ciel's parent's death, it would bring about a quicker end to his farce of a butler title, and then he could devour his master's soul.

With every passing day, his hunger grew. But he put it aside for the moment.

Not surprisingly, Tanaka was taken aback by Sebastian being in his room. "Sebastian? Why are you here?"

"The door was unlocked, so I let myself in," Sebastian said. He rose to his feet. He towered the elderly man by a clear foot. "Tanaka, there are a few things we need to discuss and now is as good a time as any."

Tanaka stood professionally by the door of his room. "And what would you like to discuss with me?" his voice a little annoyed by the invasion into his private domain. "I serve master Ciel, I serve the Phantomhive household, but it gives you no right to - "

"Enter your room?" Sebastian finished. "Quite, and I understand your frustration. As I said, the door was unlocked. I wish to speak with you on a rather important matter and it involves the master."

"If this is about tomorrow's itinerary, can it not wait until later? I am feeling tired. You know I am not a young man anymore. We have an agreement. I conduct my duties with periods of rest in between."

Sebastian sighed. "I am not disputing the agreement. I wish to talk to you about young Leic. He is Ceil's brother, isn't he?"

"His appearance speaks for itself."

"But there's something more to him, isn't there?" Sebastian held up the diary that he had hidden behind his back when Tanaka came in. And Tanaka expressed utter shock seeing Sebastian with it. "Forgive my impertinence in reading it, but I came to your room to speak with you about other matters divulged to me by a third party and my curiosity got the better of me."

"That is private! You had no right!"

"Indeed, but the deed is done. And secrets have been revealed."

"Then you know."

"Of a sort, but not all secrets have been unlocked. The entry on the day _Lukas Phantomhive_ - not Leic - arrived to the Phantomhive mansion heralds more questions; let us discuss them. And perhaps we can solve a grave injustice done."

Tanaka agreed.

* * *

Still angry with his encounter with Leic, Ciel stormed the hallways of the mansion. He still dwelled on a conspiracy happening with Leic, but that theory began to fade as each day passed. It had been several days since his "twin" appeared at the mansion with amnesia and he still had not gotten any answers from him.

Two questions filled his mind most: First, where had Leic been all this time? And second, how come _he_ had no memory of Leic? He had always been told he was a single child with no siblings. Until he had concrete proof, he still kept that belief. But he couldn't deny this boy had _his_ face.

_I feel violated. I should not. But that is how I feel. There is something going on here that is beyond my scope of understanding. However, there may be one man I can ask for clarity as he is always abreast of all assortment of dark information, even more privy than myself in regards to _underworld _goings-ons. All it will take in payment is a funny joke. And yet I am not in a jocular mood at the moment._

Nevertheless, perhaps his butler could help. He always had an uncanny nack for making the Undertaker laugh. Some of jokes were very crude, disturbing and sickly, but they always seemed to make the man burst out with boisterous laughter.

It was ironic, however. Nothing made Ciel laugh these days. Despite the portrait of his family with him smiling broadly and carefree, it was almost like that they was an entirely different family and he was the outcast, as if Leic was _that_ carefree child.

And that Leic was right in a way, that he was wearing a mask moulded to his face that only sought the destruction of his enemies…

Ever since that fateful day when he called upon Sebastian, he had become someone _something_ else, and that he felt his eye patch hid not only the covenant seal that bonded him and the demon together in contract but also buried his true self underneath.

He had lost that happy innocence: when his mansion was burned, when his parents were murdered, when he was kidnapped, when he was stripped naked in front of masked covered men and women in white robes in an underground amphitheatre, when he branded with the Mark of the Beast, preparing to be slaughter him in an unsightly ritual to join his parents. The world had turned an ugly place that night.

The only laughter he could produce now was either fake or when something sinister happened to his enemies. He couldn't even break an honest smile with Elizabeth, his betroved. They were arranged to be married when they reached a certain age. She was a royal, as was he. It was proper for royals to marry other royals. But while she enjoyed their childish prenuptial status, he considered it a nuisance. The only thing that filled his mind was revenge - vengeance upon those who sought to destroy the Phantomhive name. His family pride was everything to him.

And now, with Leic's return, he demanded to know why his parents had decided to raise one child and gave up the other. Could Leic's amnesia be genuine? So many children are given to orphanages these days because just can not afford them. It is commonplace. That was not the case with his parents. They were rich beyond the plains of avarice. Ciel was born into a privileged family, as was Leic. And yet they gave him up?

Was Sebastian's theory about children having different parents, but still having lookalike children not really a theory at all? Rare indeed, but like most _tall tales or _even children's stories - _the Brother's Grimm_, he recalled - could there be at least some validity in it?

That would only conclude one thing, and he could not heed to the idea that his father had fathered a child with another woman. It would ruin the Phantomhive name forever. Perhaps he had considered this before and not believed it, but that's why he had to keep Leic locked up for now until he learned more.

He suddenly recalled one _other_ person that could shed light on these and other matters. The only man who had been at his father's side from the beginning. If anyone could enlighten him on his father's involvements, this man could.

He had never asked Tanaka anything about his father's past before - why ask a butler about family matters? But maybe now it was time.

* * *

Tanaka finished telling a story of Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive to Sebastian. It was about one of their missions assigned by the Queen that he had been told about by Vincent. But even for a demon, Sebastian was horrified at its kind. _Human's can be such cruel creatures_, he thought.

Tanaka took a sip of water from a glass Sebastian had provided after the story had been told, and the elderly man sat down upon his bed weary.

"The very nature of a man kidnapping children and brainwashing them to commit murderous acts is appalling," Sebastian said. Although throughout his years, he had seen a great deal grossly more acts committed by humans against their own kind, and even to children, but never anything so callous. "And what became of the children in the warehouse?"

"They were all found dead a day later in the warehouse, each of them with self-inflicted gunshot wounds to the head - when the Phantomhive's went back with Scotland Yard. Happily the Phantomhive's got out of the warehouse unscathed despite the children shooting at them."

"So these twins - Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt - were never caught?"

"They remain at large to this day, and are suspected of murdering many more people. Just recently an aristocrat was found murdered in his mansion with two men who appear to have no association with him whatsoever, business-wise or other. All were shot in the head a point blank range."

"Indeed, I remember reading about this mystery two days ago in the newspaper," Sebastian mused.

"Lukas could have been kidnapped during his surgery and his parent's told he died during the operation; this would explain his appearance here now," Tanaka said. "They never viewed the body. Vincent and Rachel were told Lukas's face was horribly scarred and it would traumatize them to see their son this way."

"And you suspect this Byron Kelvin may have something to do with Lukas's kidnapping?"

"No one has seen Byron Kelvin for several years and speculation has circled that he died of a staff infection during a cosmetic surgery gone wrong. Rumor has it he was one of _those_ people by the way he acted. He enjoyed beautiful things and beautiful people and that included children…"

Sebastian did not need it to be explained. One of _those_ people was suggestive of a man who enjoyed the company of other men. While the sexual relations of human's was not an interest of his, in this era, much like other times before, it was considered an act of deviance and against the will of God - they were labeled mentally unstable, and often were crucified and murdered on the spot for it. It was commonplace in ancient times and equally acceptable, but now centuries later, the very thought of it was blasphemous against the law of nature and Man, or so thus religion was considered.

But if Byron Kelvin was indeed one of _these_ people, could he have taken it several steps further…towards children? _He liked beautiful things and beautiful people and that included children…_

The thought sickened Sebastian. And yet he thought it comparable to the contract he had with Ciel Phantomhive. He was in essence raping the young boy of his sanity and his soul, once he finally located all those who wronged him. Although, in retrospect on the night in question of his _sacrifice_ by those of the Inner Circle who removed his innocence by wanting to kill him, Sebastian was cultivating a devilish soul to devour. And yet he had no problem with this, to satisfy his hunger.

He was a demon, evil incarnate - what did he care?

"So what we need to do is find these twins," Sebastian said. "Ask them some questions."

"I doubt that would even help," Tanaka said. "You may not know this, only being with the young master for a little over two years - I am not even aware Ciel knows - but the Phantomhive's have a rich history in the underworld," Tanaka began to say. "The phrase: _Silence is golden_ is like currency."

"The young master rarely speaks about his parents, as if to hide the pain of their deaths," Sebastian said. "But I have been privy to a few of his parent's escapades, as far as the master knows them. Your story was new. I do not think even the master knows this one."

Tanaka took another sip of water. "I would hope he doesn't, children can be quite impressionable at his age and scared as well. You remember how he was after reading the stories by Edgar Allen Poe."

Sebastian nodded, remembering the night Ciel awoke in a fright after reading the tale of _The Tell Tale Heart_. The young master never told him what his nightmare was about, but by the look on the boy's face, it had frightened him dearly. An improper sleep made him moody and restless all the next day.

"I seem to recall, the media still has reports of children mysteriously disappearing even now," he said.

Tanaka nodded. "And this frightens me. And with the sudden appearance of young Lukas now, I fear there is a conspiracy amiss against the young master, but I heed not know for what purpose."

"How did you recognize Lukas in the first place?"

"There was just something about his eyes, they are the same as Ciel's - wide-eyed and free. Well, the same before the incident that changed the young lord. You can change a person's face, but you can not change their eyes. They are the window to the soul, as it is said."

Sebastian had heard this said before. And considering Tanaka had been the Phantomhive's butler at the time of both Ciel and Lukas's birth, he could see how Tanaka _could_ recognize Lukas Phantomhive by this method, but it was in no ways conclusive. To Tanaka, he believed it to be so however, so Sebastian was inclined to accept it, for now.

Tanaka shook his head. "But why would such a fiend do such a thing to an innocent child? And erase his memory as well?

Sebastian mused thoughtfully. "You said that the children the Phantomhive's encountered during this particular mission were all brainwashed and that they witnessed the young boy Richard Thompson III kill himself before them with a single command by the twins."

Tanaka nodded. "And they encountered several more children in other missions and also the twins, but never to that extreme," he said.

"I suspect young Lukas may have been brainwashed to forget who he was and then surgically altered to look like the young master for some ominous purpose," Sebastian said, although it was only theory. "But I also suspect something went wrong, something they didn't expect from young Lukas, an inbred instinct given to him by his parents that even he had no idea he possessed, even on an subconscious level - that of survival, and he was finally able to flee his captors from wherever they were keeping him all this time; and he found himself here but with amnesia of who he was and even where he had fled from."

Tanaka eyes widened with utter disbelief and shock. "Are you saying that Lukas may be one of these brainwashed children?"

"I am unsure at this point. What I do wonder about is if and when he regains his memory, what will his brainwashing entail? Is here to kill the young master and take his place? If so, why, and for whom will he take orders from? But he will merely be a puppet, and they may dispose of him when his purpose is complete, albeit short. Perhaps our young master was correct in his fears of keeping a close eye on his brother. But we can not blame the child. He is a victim in all this."

"I agree," the sound of a young boy's voice said. Ciel turned the corner into Tanaka's open quarters door to face both butlers. "But we must still take every available precaution."

"You heard?" Tanaka said shocked by Ciel's appearance.

"Quite nearly everything," Ciel said calmly. "I was standing in the hallway, listening. I came to speak with you, Tanaka, on a similar matter of my parents, and it appears the questions I had have been answered quite amicably. While I do not harbinger a grudge against you for keeping this information from me about my parents and my brother, I do not enjoy being kept in the dark about such important matters, especially when it comes to family. The pride of my family is everything!"

"We apologize, my lord," Sebastian spoke for the both of them.

"There is still more I must tell you," Tanaka said. "Your parents took you to a medium and erased your memories of your brother because you were so distraught by his death."

"That would explain why I do not remember him." Ciel then waved a hand in the air as to dismiss the matter. "Now that things are out in the open, what do you do about it? If indeed Lukas, as is his real name… is indeed brainwashed but has amnesia at the moment, how can we eradicate this _programming_ so stored in him if he is here to cause destruction to us…and restore my real brother back to me?"

"We must try to prevent the activation of his 'programming' first," Sebastian suggested.

"And how do you suppose we go about doing that?"

But before answering, Sebastian stopped, sensing something. And he remained still as if listening to a noise only he could hear, to identify it. He heard the racing of heartbeats in the distance. Lots of them. There was a threat to the mansion. It was the same feeling he had when he first sensed Lukas's presence on the grounds being chased by two men on horseback.

"What is it?" Ciel asked concerned.

Sebastian turned his head to the bay window, then looked out.

Tanaka followed him, then Ciel.

Each saw the same thing. Approaching the mansion were a group of well armed men approaching the mansion from the back countryside.

Sebastian felt they were militaristically trained or were hired mercenaries hired by someone and possessing menacing intent towards the mansion and its occupants.

"I'm afraid the Lukas issue will have to wait, my lord," he said with a slight grin. "It appears we have guests."

"They must be here to take back master Lukas," Tanaka voiced. "We can't let that to happen!"

"Then we must show them the Phantomhive hospitality," Ciel said with a baleful smile, when Sebastian looked at him. "Inform the others. We must prepare a warm reception. Use all available resources."

Sebastian bowed. "Yes, my lord."

And they each went to prepare for the immediate attack.

**To be continued.**


	12. Retrieval

**CHAPTER 11 - "RETRIEVAL"**

The sound of something heavy whistled through the air and landed with explosive impact outside in the back courtyard, raising dirt and debris in every direction. To Leic, it sounded like a cannonball.

He raced to the bay window of his quarters looking across the courtyard - his new quarters were on the main floor.

Indeed it had been a cannonball. And it looked like a small war was brewing outside with men assaulting the mansion, weapons in hands and with heavy artery strategically placed for optimum effect, in some sort of strike upon his brother's home.

But there was also counter-fire. Bullets soared through the air with rapid speed from what sounded like a rotating machine gun and stone blocks were launched upon the attackers from the roof of the mansion with amazing accuracy perturbing the enemy's advancement.

The defenders appeared professional, holding the enemy. Along with the machine gun and stone blocks, he saw a young woman in the field firing upon the attackers with two hand guns, showing amazing prowise. Single-handedly, she was able to take out or kill an attacker with a single shot. And with closer look, he was utterly shocked at who it was. It was the maid Mey-Ryn and she didn't have her wide circular glasses on. This clumsy, inept woman was a secret marksman? Where did his brother hire _this_ woman from? Then could his other servants be the one's on the roof counterattacking this onslaught using their own secret skills - firing the machine gun and throwing the blocks? Baldroy and Finny, were their names.

Ciel Phantomhive had enemies, but to this extreme?

He then realized this assault was for him. These people had come to take him back, just like those two horsemen had attempted when he first came to his brother's mansion. The question was why. Why was he _this_ important to start a small war over? Or perhaps, this had nothing to do with him at all, he reconsidered. Ciel was a resentful bastard. Could this merely be one of _his _enemies attacking him…

_I am also a Phantomhive_, he thought. _So they are my enemies too!_

He looked like Ciel, they were twins, and for some strange feeling despite the "mask" he felt he was wearing, he in fact _felt _he belonged here, with _his_ family.

_Lukas… _his inner voice said.

Lukas? Who was Lukas? The name suddenly came to mind and it felt familiar. He had no idea why the name popped into his head, but he felt it was _his_, his real name. His hidden name, that someone had tried to conceal from him.

The name _Leic_ was a backwards version of _Ciel_, he figured this out himself with ease. Frankly, he felt Leic was a fake name all along, but he couldn't quite understand why and he had no other name to call himself because of his amnesia.

But things were starting to reassert themselves. Memories were coming back in tiny fragments. They weren't clear, but he began to remember things that he had never recalled before.

This life he lead, the name he was calling himself, just felt wrong. And he wanted to remember who he was so very badly. Something within the last couple of days created an impression of belonging here with his brother and despite Ciel treating him poorly and like some sort of outcast, he felt a kinship with him.

His clutched his head as a surge with pain erupted in his brain. And images, memories began to flood through his thoughts.

_A clinical laboratory. His face wrapped in a bandage after some sort of surgery or in preparation for one. And men in white lab coats looking down at him as he was strapped onto a medical bed unable to move._

His _father_ smiled gracefully down at him. The father he said he vaguely remembered telling Ciel about when they argued only hours before. The man with a pudgy face and with white hair, long sideburns and glasses - that he now saw face-to-face in a memory. This was the man who he remembered taking care of him for most of his life, or at least that's how his memories portrayed.

He had read in a recent newspaper article of something that happened years ago, a man who kidnapped children; Tanaka had brought it for him to read. The daily news. The article said that a number of children had been taken years ago and this corresponded with a rash of children kidnappings now.

He wasn't stupid, but his memories were still foggy. If indeed he was a Phantomhive, and all evidence pointed to that very truth, and he had been kidnapped years ago, then _he_ had been one of these children. And this was not his real father, but his captor. And this war _was_ for him, to retrieve him and to take him back so he wouldn't reveal to anyone who this man is behind the kidnappings…

His head hurt just thinking about it. And perhaps that's why it hurt, because truthful memories were finally emerging to the surface of his consciousness. Memories he had forgotten, or that were taken from him. Had his father brainwashed new memories for him or made him believe certain untruths?

That would mean…

* * *

"_You may begin, doctor," his father said, standing next to a tall man with his head covered with a white cap and his mouth and nose covered with a white mask. This doctor was completely unidentifiable. _

_His father then looked directly into Lukas's eyes, as Lukas was strapped down to the table. Putting a gentle hand on his forehead, Lukas could do nothing but just stare in horror at this happenstance. "You will be my greatest creation, son. I will make you beautiful, correcting the disease that marks your face. No longer will you be ugly. You will be beautiful, and I will educate you properly. You're a very smart boy, and I'll use you where you'll be best. Soon the new rulers of the British Commonwealth will arise and we must be ready to assist in overthrowing the Queen."_

_Lukas struggled against the binds that secured him to the table, but to no avail. The doctor then injected him with a syringe into the side of his neck and within seconds Lukas felt the serum work, numbing his nervous system and brain functions, and he quickly became at the mercy of these two men._

"_That's a good boy, my sweet son, soon you're find a place among the others, among all my children," his father said. "And together we will make a better world. Someone has wronged me, and now I will wrong him. I promised him to make you well, and I will, but how was never discussed. I'll say you died during the procedure to correct deformities in your face, but you'll be alive and well, and one of my children." _

_His "father" turned to the doctor once he had finished his speech, and nodded to begin._

_Then two young men, teenagers he thought, approached the table to look down at Lukas before the doctor started to unwrap the bandages around Lukas's head and face._

"_Sasha, Samuel…cover your mouths, you idiots!" his father scolded them; the doctor ceasing to unwrap the bandages. "I don't want him contaminated before the procedure."_

_They were twins, dressed in white and had blonde hair. Lukas had never seen them before, but he felt they weren't right - they had evil eyes. _

"_Looks like a waste of time to me," said one twin, as he put a cloth over his mouth before talking. "You're going to make him into an assassin?"_

"_But then again, who would believe a little kid could be a killer," the second twin said._

"_He will be my son first, an assassin and infiltrator second, do you understand?" his father said firmly. "Once the Inner Circle kills the Phantomhive's, I'll reinsert Lukas as his brother, educate him in propriety, literacy, and commerce - I will cast away his ugliness and make Lukas just as beautiful as his brother Ciel, and have him run their business and family under the tutelage of his unsuspecting butler Tanaka, and make all what the Phantomhive's own mine. And the Inner Circle will do away with the Queen, and a new rule will begin of the British Commonwealth. A strong and selective one. Then when all my children are grown, they will spread across the world building _my _beautiful empire under the Fantom Co. And only beautiful things will reign; the ugliness of the world will parish. "_

"_Like you," said Sasha._

_Father sneered. "Vincent Phantomhive's Aristocrats of Evil group banished me from their secret association because they considered me too weak and not easy on the eyes."_

"_You mean ugly," Samuel said._

_Father growled angrily. "That will change, as I too will make myself beautiful, just like all my children are, all my sons and daughters - like lovely little flowers."_

"_I…am…not…your…son…" Lukas muttered sleepily._

"_Oh, but you will be," his father brushed a gentle hand across Lukas's exposed cheek, "just like all the rest."_

_Then darkness took Lukas…_

* * *

An explosion rocked the bay window of his quarters, throwing him to the ground, knocking him out his reverie. For a few short moments, he blacked out. But then he regained consciousness and found himself buried in wood and glass from the once bay window, where a large hole now was.

His ears were ringing and every sound reverberated with waves of pain. He pushed the debris off him and attempted to stand on his feet, but then collapsed as his equilibrium would not hold him. So he crawled, his clothes tattered, his hands bleeding, and a stream of blood dripped from a wound on his head. He put a hand to his head and his whole hand came back covered in blood. His left eye hurt, but he could still see out of it, but he felt sharp pains above and below his eye, as if glass had carved across those areas from the blast.

Indeed a cannonball had exploded just outside his window. And now he could see smoke and fire encompassing the edges of the opening of the once bay window, giving the appearance of a fiery looking-glass. His ears were still ringing, but he could hear vague shouts from outside - cries of war, people shouting, screaming, and dying.

And then he saw them, like angels coming to rescue him from this hell. But they weren't angels. They didn't have wings, although they were dressed in white. His eyesight was acute and he could see them standing at a reasonable distance next to a roofless automobile through the smoke that now started to cloud his destroyed quarters, and they were smiling. Demonic expressions on their faces, like demons from Hell.

He knew who they were, his memories had shown him, but their names eluded him for the moment, and he would rather die than go back with them!

The door to his quarters burst over, and Ciel stood there after shouldering the door open. He momentarily rubbed his shoulder, as Lukas looked back.

He was saying something, but Lukas's ears were still ringing. However, he did recognize when Ciel waved him over. His expression was that of determination and urgency.

Lukas tried to stand, but then fell over again. Ciel then came over and helped him, perhaps seeing Lukas's injuries, putting one arm around his wrist and bridging Lukas's other arm over Ciel's shoulder. Then he lead Lukas out into the hallway.

Ciel put him down gently and again spoke something that sounded grabbled to Lukas. "I can't hear," he said. "The explosion is causing a ringing in my ears."

Ciel nodded, and then shouted down the hallway, calling for something. As quick as the wind, Sebastian soon came to be in the hallway, like a phantom. Ciel instructed him to do something, and Lukas suddenly found himself being lifting into the butler's arms and carried away. Ciel followed them.

Lukas was taken to Ciel's private quarters on the 2nd floor of the mansion, and sat upon the bed. It appeared the most safest place to be at the moment. Sebastian then took out a small cloth, wet it in a dish on a table next to his master's bed, and placed it softly across Lukas's left eye where the cuts were, and Lukas was instructed to hold it there. The butler then took out a small medical kit and started to wrap gauss cloth around the rest of Lukas's injuries.

Even though the ringing in his ears was still as loud as ever, he asked, "Who is defending the mansion?"

Sebastian and Ciel exchanged a smile. And suddenly, a voice entered Lukas's head that said, "The others."

Lukas looked sharply at the butler, and their eyes gazed into each other's as if looking into the other's soul.

_His voice was as clear as day, _Lukas thought, _even with the ringing in my ears._

Sebastian then smiled, as if he just heard Lukas's thoughts.

* * *

Sasha looked through a pair of binoculars at the mansion next to the automobile brought to the battlefield.

Their men were getting slaughtered. Not only by the so-called quick-shot gunslinger maid out front firing with her six-shooters and killing every man she aimed at, but their men were also being gunned down by the rapid shooting by the machine gun from an alcove in the side of the mansion manned by the supposedly inept cook, and also crushed and deterred by the overly strong accident prone gardener launching blocks and rocks from the rooftop, turning men into bloody paste.

"Bardroy, Mey-Rin, and Finny," he said. "The cook, the maid and the gardener…it appears out intelligence was incorrect on this trio."

"Indeed. The Inner Circle provided incomplete information for us on this mission," Samuel said, looking from place to place through his binoculars on the other side of the automobile, surveying their mission's impeding failure to retrieve the boy.

They were at a safe distance from the action, but even at this range, both twins felt a little nervous.

"An unexpected turnabout," Sasha said. "Retreat is an optimal course of action here."

"I agree. Before everyone is wiped out. The better part of valor."

Samuel reached into a box on the back car seat and pulled out a flare gun, pointed it into the sky, then pulled the trigger. A soaring blast of red coursed through the sky. It was the signal to retreat.

Once it was given, their men ceased the attack and immediately turned back, fleeing the seemingly hopeless cause. Even the artery blasts stopped and the cannon's abandoned they had brought with them in three trucks; the trucks were left also.

But it didn't stop the counter-fire from the mansion, and the rapid fire from the machine gun continued to course bullets through the air, gunning down some in cold-blood as the fled. Even the maid continued her onslaught. And so did the gardener.

But when they were out of range, and the counterattack stopped, and the wind carried cheers from the defenders across the back lot.

Their men ran past them, frantic to get away. The twins remained for a moment looking at the mansion and its defenders. Indeed Ciel Phantomhive had a good lot of defenses.

"Servants indeed," Sasha said coarsely.

"Quite," his brother agreed.

With Sasha driving, the twins took course and followed their men. They both knew the Inner Circle will not like this failure. Not at all.

* * *

When the fighting was over and the attackers were fleeing - Sebastian watched them run across the back countryside of the mansion with their figurative tails beneath their legs _with_ their superiors in tow driving the white automobile - he could hear the congratulatory cheers of the household servants. And he agreed with their glee. He would have to make a special desert to thank them for going beyond the call of duty service. But along with their said professions, they were hired to protect the mansion and the master, and they had performed this duty with excellence.

Tanaka approached to stand next to him. He too was watching those that fled.

"Those two in the car…" Sebastian said, pointing, "they are whom we think they are?"

Tanaka nodded. "I concur, they are Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt; the two I spoke about in Vincent Phantomhive's mission tale. If they are involved, both Lukas and Ciel are in grave danger."

Sebastian agreed whole-heartedly.

He had left both boys in Ciel's quarters to come out and survey the damage to the back courtyard and grounds, and he sighed at what he saw. "Finny will have a lot of work cut out for him filling these holes and reseeding the grounds," he said. "And just look at all the dead waste." Referring to the bodies left behind. _So many wasted souls,_ he then thought.

"Shall we give them a burial?" Tanaka offered.

"Much like the ancient Greeks, I believe their people should be able to retrieve the bodies, if they want them. Otherwise, we should burn them."

"I say we burn the lot," Ciel said, as he and Lukas exited the mansion's back terrace to stand next to the two butlers. "Dead is dead. A dead soldier is a useless soldier."

Lukas spoke up. "I'm sorry to bring this little war upon the mansion," he said solemnly. "They were after me."

"Heed it no mind," Ciel retorted. "Frankly, this is not an unusual occurrence."

"Indeed, more than once the mansion has come under attack by insidious forces," Sebastian explained.

"Really?"

"I am not well liked in certain circles, especially with those in the underworld that do not heed to the Queen's decree," Ciel said. "I am the Queen's guard dog, the underworld's lord and master, as all Phantomhive's have been. And now, brother, you will share this covenant, in a matter of speaking."

Lukas blinked surprised. "Brother? So you no longer think I am lying to you?"

"Are you?"

"No."

"Then I do not." Ciel smiled. "Sebastian and Tanaka have been kind enough to enlighten me on certain truths. Our parents were deceived, they were told you were dead. We are twins, fraternal twins - brothers by blood but from birth did not look alike. Your face was altered to share mine, but that purpose is still unclear. It is still one more mystery of your sudden appearance we have yet to uncover."

"I believe I can shed light on that, by way of a recent vision or remembrance," Lukas said. "Just before the window to my quarters was blown in, I recalled a memory of great importance. That of my father and his _children_, those two twins I saw through the fiery hole after the explosive impact of the cannonball." He paused for a moment to fully recall it, closing his eyes. "I was strapped to a table with _father_ looking down at me. I remember my face was bandaged, and they were about to perform surgery on me with a doctor who I can not see through his white garbs…"

Tanaka sighed. "Your real father and mother had the noblest intentions, to help you overcome a hideous disfigurement. We did not know - I and you parents - what would later occur. And I believe a certain man is behind all the kidnappings of the children, and your transformation. His name is Byron Kelvin."

"Who is he?" asked Lukas.

"An aristocrat and a philanthropist, a lair, and a perverted individual," Ciel said with distain. "He attended a social party my parents once had when I was young, I do not recall you were there. That was the first time I met him. He appeared…normal, as far as I can recall. A pudgy, middle-aged man with white hair, hair down the sides of his face, glasses balanced upon bridge of his nose - "

"That's him!" Lukas said. "That is the man who I recalled in my vision. This is father!"

"Unfortunately," Tanaka interrupted, "we believe he died of a shaft infection years ago when he underwent plastic surgery to correct an _imperfection,_ as he called it."

"This information may prove fake," Sebastian said. "A number of children are still going missing. It could be possible he is still alive and kidnapping these children for some nefarious purpose."

"I agree," Ciel said. He looked at Lukas with a serious demeanor. "When we were arguing earlier, you mentioned _father_. Now that we know who _he _may be, how long ago do you remember seeing him?"

"It has been some time," Lukas said, his brow folded thinking. "I mostly hung out with the rest of the children. But I do recall that he enjoyed the circus a lot. But I do not remember why he said that."

Ciel shook his head. To him it appeared to be a dead end, Sebastian saw. "This doctor you spoke of," Sebastian said, altering the conversion into a more hopeful branch. "Can you remember anything distinctive amount him?" He turned to the elder butler. "Tanaka, you mentioned something in your story about a doctor, that one of the twins haphazardly spoke about - "

"Who are these 'twins'?" Ciel interjected. "I appear the only one not in the loop about them, other than what I heard from Tanaka's story. But I assume there is more to their story I do not know."

"Their names are Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt," Lukas said. For the next few minutes, he described everything he could recall about them. His memory seemed to have improved dramatically, Sebastian observed. All his information seemed to fit the bill to Tanaka's story. "They are merciless killers. They are evil incarnate. Stay away from them at all costs!"

"Then we must prepare," Ciel said. "No counter offensive is valuable without good intelligence. We must be assured what we are up against. Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt are obviously working for someone. If not Bryon Kelvin, then whom? He must have had a list of associates." Ciel eyed Tanaka. "You knew Bryon Kelvin better than anyone, we will need your help."

Tanaka nodded. "And I know of one other who can help us," he said.

"Good. Ask for his assistance as well."

As Ciel and Tanaka spoke congruently, formulating a list of people who could help them in their plight, Sebastian noticed a certain reservation from young Lukas. His eyes were drawn down to the ground, as if in thought or in melancholy. He could not ascertain his new young master's state of mind after everything he had recently gone through, but he could sense a sadness from the boy.

All his life up until now had been a lie.

He put a hand on the boy's shoulder, which attracted Lukas's attention. The lad looked up at him, and Sebastian produced a smile. "Cheer up, young master. You are finally home."

The others looked at him.

"Yes," Lukas smiled lightly. "But now what?"

"I recommend we alert the alert the media of the young master's homecoming, I'm sure there will be much fanfare," Sebastian expressed.

"Brilliant!" Ciel said. "At first, I didn't want anyone to know he existed because a scandal would tear the Phantomhive name apart, but now that we know the truth, we can use it to _our_ advantage."

"What do you mean '_our advantage'_?" Lukas said.

"The homecoming of my long lost brother will be the talk of the town," Ciel said with a certain sinister intent. "The media all across England will snap at the chance to hear the story of Lukas Phantomhive."

"But won't that put me in danger?"

"Precisely," Ciel said.

"You see, young master Lukas," Tanaka spoke up. "Your sudden re-discovery will spark nation-wide news. The son of Vincent Phantomhive returning home, who had been separated from his twin brother for many years, will draw out those who kidnapped you for fear of reprisal."

"So, you'll be setting me up to be target for these people?"

"Of a fashion," Sebastian answered. "If they believe you've regained your memory of certain events, they will attempt anything to silence you."

"I don't like this plan," Lukas said. "And I have not regained all my memories. And some now, I would like to forget."

"It will work," Ciel said confidently. "Sebastian, I order you to protect my brother at all costs!"

Sebastian bowed, "Of course, my lord."

Sebastian turned slightly to smile at Lukas, and for a moment, there was a certain uneasiness in Lukas's eyes the butler sensed. He was entrenched to obey Ciel Phantomhive, only if it didn't endanger his life. The covenant that bound them together were between them, he had no such covenant with Lukas Phantomhive.

But he would obey his master's orders nonetheless. And if he were lucky, he would find the remaining members of the Inner Circle and end this butler farce once and for all. The covenant only held true until everyone who wronged Ciel Phantomhive had been dealt with.

There were six members of the Inner Circle unaccounted for.

**To be continued…**


	13. A New Beginning

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: DON'T FORGET, NEW MATERIAL HAS BEEN ADDED TO CHAPTER 11, SO PLEASE READ THAT BEFORE GOING ON...**

* * *

**CHAPTER 12 - "A NEW BEGINNING"**

The remaining members of the Inner Circle convened in the secret amphitheatre. Retrieval of Lukas Phantomhive had failed and the twins Sasha and Samuel took great loses. Oddly enough, the twins also did not report back after the loss at the mansion.

A week had passed. Metcalf was angry. And he could see the irate faces of his follow members on the matter. The twins had been paid to retrieve the boy and return him back to his cage with the Doctor. Equally strange, the doctor had also vanished without a trace. His laboratory was cleaned out, and all research had disappeared with him without word to the Inner Circle. This did not bode well with the members. Tensions were high, and their plans were falling by the wayside with these constant string of failures.

"We paid them to do a job and they failed miserably!" Firo said. He gazed at Metcalf. "And now we seem to be missing the doctor too. Can you explain this, Metcalf?"

Metcalf opened his mouth to say something, but Valen spoke up, and he held up the morning's newspaper. "Forget the doctor! Have you read this article Ciel Phantomhive issued to the press? The _boy_ has his memory back! We were told this wouldn't happen!"

"Calm yourself, Valen," Metcalf said. "It's a ploy to expose ourselves, trust me."

But Metcalf had to admit he had not foreseen this. The Doctor had indeed assured him that Lukas Phantomhive would never get his memory back. Lukas Phantomhive was gone. He had been lied to. He knew he had to remain calm. The other members were beginning to panic, and they needed to be reassured, or they might do something stupid. He could not let all they worked for these last few years, even after the Great Death, to be destroyed by one act of frightened stupidity.

The article headline read: "_Long Lost Brother of Ciel Phantomhive Found; Secret Sect Involved in Disappearance; Kidnapped Children Connection."_

Metcalf had read the article in full this morning.

Ciel Phantomhive was never one for subtly, he was always blunt and to the point. Only twelve years old, he acted much like his father. And when he wanted something _done_, nothing stopped him, even if that meant solving a mystery.

And Ciel Phantomhive was equally dangerous like his father.

Vincent Phantomhive had been silenced because he swore to expose the Inner Circle and their plans, using his own secret group he formed to vanquish his enemies - called the "Aristocrats of Evil" with their own agenda. Vincent was loyal to the queen, but at the same time ruled the underworld with an iron fist.

After the Phantomhive's deaths, things were to have gone easy to remove Queen Victoria from the throne, and Ciel's kidnapped brother to be her murderer, soiling the Phantomhive name forever, told that the Queen had ordered the death of her royal guard dog. But when Ciel Phantomhive turned up, things went arye, and Lukas Phantomhive was to have a new mission. Which unfortunately appeared it _too_ had gone bad.

Ciel Phatomhive had to be eliminated, there were no question about that. He was too much trouble. The plan to alter his brother with plastic surgery and replace Ciel was a brilliant plan, or was until Lukas escaped. Too many things had gone wrong, and he didn't know why.

Recalling the article, the headline was blunt but the details were vague. Ciel Phantomhive did not mention anyone specific by name, but cataloged a lot of hypothesis of his brother's disappearance corresponding his kidnapping with the children's disappearance years before and now. Scotland Yard was now vigilantly on the case to solve the kidnapping children cases.

Bryon Kelvin had been involved in the children's disappearances years ago, Metcalf recalled, along with the twins. But Byron Kelvin had not been seen in years. Rumor had it he died from a staff infection from undergoing plastic surgery to correct and _imperfection_, as he called it. Bryon Kelvin never liked how he looked, this _imperfection_ was to make him more handsome. But Metcalf knew plastic surgery can only do so much. People were who they were. Sometimes beautification could not be achieved. A person had to accept who they were, no matter what they looked like. That was life.

However, Metcalf suspected Bryon Kelvin may still alive. Children were disappearing again, and their disappearances now hallmarked similarities to the kidnappings years before.

Byron Kelvin had a good heart, or he had _had_ a good heart.

Kelvin had opened an orphanage years back to help under privileged children. But only two years after, the orphanage burned down and all the kids disappeared. Kelvin was most comfortable around children. Never a member of the Inner Circle but a known affiliate, Kelvin always had a soft spot for children who had a difficult time in time, and often referred to those in his orphanage as _his children_. This was a bit disturbing, but he was the chairman of the board of the orphanage, so it was not out of the realm of his liking of them.

But then something happened that changed in the man and he started to become obsessive about _his children_. And soon after, the kidnappings started. Some children were returned, but never alive. And their deaths were always horrible, but it was never confirmed Kelvin had anything to do with the children's deaths. Metcalf had no children so he didn't have to worry about the kidnappings, but some of the Inner Circle did, including Vincent Phantomhive, and as the Queen's guard dog, he was ordered to stop it by the Queen's decree. Vincent had told this much to the rest of the Inner Circle, and said he would stop at nothing to catch this psychopath. But he had no idea it was Bryon Kelvin, even to his death.

The plan to kidnap Lukas Phantomhive and brainwash him was to work to the Inner Circle favor, as long as Kelvin's secret obsession was kept hidden. The Inner Circle and Kelvin formed a pact to do this, and eventually it would lead to a greater good. But Kelvin wanted Vincent Phantomhive dead, and a plan was forged to do such. The Great Death was not foreseen, however, and neither was Ciel Phantomhive's "resurrection" to oversee his family's estate. Although Metcalf and the other remaining members, albeit no able to attend, knew what were to be the events of that fateful evening.

But no one could have seen the eventual outcome that would lead to the almost demise of the Inner Circle. Thus, after it was learned what had happened, Lukas Phantomhive would be used in a plan to replace Ciel Phantomhive, take the family estate, and join with the Inner Circle to rebuild it with help from the Doctor. With power, wealth and influence, the Inner Circle would grow again and span the globe, much like the supposed secret sect of the America's, the Masons, that only recently expanded their influence into the British Commonwealth, despite some of its founders in America were immigrants from England over a hundred years ago.

In fact, some of the founding members of the Inner Circle were Masons. None survived the Great Death, however. What remained were five of the elite of the British Commonwealth's industrial trades and commerce. The youngest of the group who was a crown attorney. He joined the Inner Circle by way of a former member who offered him acceptance into the Inner Circle for certain legal favors. Luckily, the man was ambitious, and for power and money, the man was very obliging.

But the issue of this gathering was not the past, but the present, and the callous attempt by Ciel Phantomhive to lure the Inner Circle into revealing themselves in the kidnapping of Lukas Phantomhive by way of a newspaper article uttering rhetoric and suppositions to the public, only to gain sympathy with Englanders.

"You're jumping to conclusions," Metcalf continued, speaking calmly. "The twins may have failed to retrieve the boy, but this does not endanger the Inner Circle. The article says nothing about us. Ciel Phantomhive lives with the belief, however supposedly supernatural it may seem, that those who kidnapped him, then tortured him that night in an attempt to kill him much like his parents, are all dead. If Ciel Phantomhive really knew all there was to know about what really happened to his brother, we would not be standing here now."

The others seemed to agree to this.

"So how do we handle this situation?" William said.

Metcalf smiled thinly. "We do nothing. The fanfare of Lukas Phantomhive's return was celerbratorial, but the article is nothing more than a pathetic way to fish the kidnappers out of hiding."

"The boy knows his real name," Valen said. "We were told he would not recover this. We were told he was brainwashed with only the information he was given."

"You forget, Valen, that the brainwashing wasn't finished. The boy escaped before it was complete. Therefore, initially he was calling himself Liec, the backwards version of Ciel, because he was to become his brother at a later date. But the Doctor assured me that that was not a problem."

"That is another issue," the member with the sunder eyes said. "It seems the Doctor and the twins have disappeared without a trace. And it just happened to coincide with the article coming out."

"Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt _were_ mentioned in the article, but only because they were supposedly connected to the children kidnappings years prior when Vincent Phantomhive was alive, and were at the mansion during the attack on the mansion, also mentioned in the article. They are well known as notorious killers, but there is no connection to us."

"I think we should silence them, just to make sure," Firo said straightly. "The twins sudden disappearance, along with the Doctor is worrisome. I do not want to end up like the rest of the Inner Circle." He then looked around the torch lit room. "There is an eeriness about this place I can't explain. A demonic aura still remains infused in this amphitheater from the Great Death more than two years ago. Things have not gone right for us since the beginning of this devised plot with Lukas Phantomhive since his escape."

"Keep your superstitions to yourself," Valen spat. "There was nothing ghostly about the Great Death. They were murdered by someone or a group of unknown people. Perhaps even the remains of Vincent Phantomhive secret group who sought revenge for his death. We all knew that he had decided to part ways with the Inner Circle due to differences of opinion. He wanted nothing to do with removing the Queen and to insert the Inner Circle into power. He was loyal to the Queen. He was killed for that, along with his wife. And we were to eliminate all the Phantomhive's, until his son Ciel somehow escaped during the Great Death, which has still remained a mystery. The twins have recently rounded up Vincent Phantomhive's sect and killed them all. Now all that stands in our way is Ciel Phantomhive. He has now become a threat to us!"

"I agree," Metcalf said. "And remember, with a single phrase, Lukas Phantomhive's programming can be activated. Then he will eliminate Ciel Phantomhive for us and take his place. The plan is still working, gentleman. Do not fret."

"I've been thinking," William said, putting a hand to his chin in contemplation and looking thoughtful, his voice echoing in the near empty amphitheatre. "We must do something about this new rash of children kidnappings. Bryon Kelvin was behind the children kidnappings before, but he's dead. This is a new deviant. And he's more devious. Vincent Phantomhive and I may have had our differences on certain issues, but we both agreed safeguarding the children of London was important, and as the Queen's guard dog he went after Byron, or the person he thought were behind the acts. I have two boys, I do not want them taken by some sick psychopath for his own perverse child fantasy or find them dead somewhere in a ditch by self-inflicted wounds like other children that have been found."

Metcalf agreed.

"Be mindful of what you say, gentlemen," a young voice echoed the amphitheatre. The Inner Circle members turned, looked up, and found a young man leaning casually against the wall adjacent to a half-moon aperture. He had thick black hair pulled back into a ponytail. He wore octagonal, tinted glasses - something new young elite gentleman were sporting these days like a fad, tipped slightly down the bridge of his nose. "Some of what you speak can be construed as treacherous." He chuckled slightly.

Metcalf knew him. He was a brash, ambitious, and wealthy young aristocrat with money to burn. His family was so wealthy in fact that they secretly owned most of London. But he was also a notorious gambler. He was also known in the underworld, supporting various secret affiliations including the Inner Circle. He dressed like an aristocrat and was highly intelligent, but he was no gentleman and did not act like a scholar.

He was also known for one other thing…

"Mathu, you crazed sycophant," Metcalf said with distain. "If you're here, I assume she's here too."

Mathu cocked his head slightly and grinned. "I love you, too, Wiberforthe Nottingham." He laughed. The young man looked down at each member of the Inner Circle, and eyed each individual momentarily, as if to mentally telling them he knew each of their real identities. Which in fact Metcalf knew he did. "And yes, _she_ is here. And _she's_ quite unhappy with the circumstances. You were told to retrieve the brat," he said, moving away from the wall. He looked down at them all like some sort of godly being. "And you failed."

"_We_ didn't fail," Metcalf retorted. "It was Sasha and Samuel who failed to acquire the prize. Because of their incompetence, the boy has now recovered a part of his identity, which _we_ were told would not happen due to his programming, by the Doctor." He wasn't afraid of Mathu. The young man didn't intimidate him for a moment. "And now each have gone into hiding. What have you and that _she-devil _done with them?"

Mathu took a few steps down the flight of steps leading to he centre of the amphitheatre where the members of the Inner Circle stood, but stopped one step short facing Metcalf as if challenge.

Metcalf knew the young man was nothing but a cog in a machine of sorts, and if he was as smart as his schooling taught him, he'd realize this as well. Either that, or he didn't care, which made him very dangerous.

Mathu Kelvin, son of John Kelvin and nephew of Bryon Kelvin. If anyone was a brat, he was. Most children born to privilege and wealth arrogant, thinking they ruled over others just because they had money, and in essence, Mathu and Ciel Phantomhive shared this in common.

Mathu leveled himself with Metcalf. He wasn't particularly tall, about 5'9", and yet he considered himself on a higher level than the Inner Circle because he worked for _her_. But Metcalf stood firm, unfazed by the confrontational nature of this supercilious "child".

Mathu gazed at Metcalf ."You're not a religious man, Metcalf, but you're the kind of person who sees himself above others, notwithstanding, a overseer of all things. I'm here to tell you, all 'gods' can be killed." He smirked. "The Inner Circle has fallen. The Great Death was much more than you think it was, and Vincent Phantomhive and his secret little sect - the 'Aristocrats of Evil' - had nothing to do with it."

Metcalf narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you fail to see the truth even if it stares you the face," Mathu said. "You may have cleaned the surface of this place, but the evil seen here two years ago still remains." He extended his arms, as in glorious tribute, gazing around at the perfectly circular amphitheatre constructed of white brick, with dancing shadows cast by torch light. "Don't you feel it, Metcalf. This devil's cauldron is a ventricle of the Beast. This is a gate way to Hell itself, and is how _He_ passed through to kill your allies when summoned. Within these walls are the bones of the workers who made it over two centuries ago, filled with the hate of betrayal, or loathing and of hate. Ancient Greece wasn't the only one's with advanced building craftsmanship. Who do you think built Stonehenge? The Druids?"

"I don't understand," Metcalf said, his confidence wavering slightly with confusion. "What does Stonehenge have to do with this amphitheatre?"

"Like I said," Mathu said. "The truth eludes you like so many things. You're blind to the clues set before you. Blinded by the amplitude of what it all truly means to be standing here. The other members of the Inner Circle before the Great Death hadn't a clue either. It's opulence cast its golden eyes on you like an idol. The true power of this place only accepts those who desire it."

"You're mad," Metcalf said.

"Madness coupled with knowledge equals understanding, my friend. Sometimes you must believe the world is insane to truly believe what the truth of it all really means. Over two thousand years ago, fools believed a savior would rescue them from an evil so entrechat that they were willing to lay down their lives for him, and over the centuries millions have died believing in a false idol. I'm here to tell you the truth." Mathu smiled. "The greatest trick the He ever pulled was to convince the world he didn't exist."

Firo said: "'_And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel that displays the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. For what we preach is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God's glory displayed in the face of Christ.' _2 Corinthians paragraph 4, lines 3 to 6."

Mathu's smiled, and Metcalf looked at him in disbelief. He didn't know Firo was a religious man.

Mathu laughed short. "Well, how unexpected. It appears we have a divine fanatic in this house of devil worship," he said. "An oxymoron, indeed." The young man ventured down to Firo and stood face-to-face with him in the centre of the amphitheatre. He and Firo were the same height. "I admire a man who displays his beliefs openly. When I was younger, I quoted biblical quotes too. Now I know better."

"Okay, Mathu, enough of this rhetoric," Metcalf said. "We have more pressing matters of concern. We must retrieve the Lukas boy and make him ours again - "

"Nonsense; he is exactly where we want him to be," Mathu said. "The Doctor did exactly what he we told him to do. You see, Lukas Phantomhive's programming _is_ complete, unlike what the Doctor told you, and his amnesia is a part of it. And he was lead to the Phantomhive mansion by your men on horseback."

"But they were killed by Sasha and Samuel for their failure, along with the man who hired them, to retrieve the boy after he escaped the laboratory."

"A lie. Oh, the men were killed, but that was to keep the lie.

"You wanted Lukas Phantomhive to fall back into the hands of his brother Ciel? Why?"

Before Mathu could speak, another voice did.

"They are family, and family should be together. And die together."

A striking, beautiful woman emerged from an alcove above. She wore a long flowing black dress embroiled with diamonds flecks. Around her neck was a sparkling, blue, emerald necklace. Her hair was as bright and golden as a dawn sun. Metcalf knew _her _instantly. She was also a gypsy, who could supposedly see the future. And the woman who Mathu "followed", and who had great power and influence in the underworld. Few had seen her, but almost all knew her by name: Savannah.

Suddenly, both Sasha and Samuel exited from opposite alcoves of the amphitheatre on the upper tiers, each holding an automatic rifle, pointing them at the Inner Circle members.

So they had joined with Mathu and Savannah. Was this planned? he wondered.

"Savannah? What's the meaning of this? We are partners! Tell those fools to lower their weapons!"

Mathu shook his head. "Like I said, Metcalf, you fail to see the whole picture," he said. Mathu looked sharply at the court attorney, and the man quickly ran away from the others. Mathu back away.

Metcalf watched the man run, and suddenly the truth came to light. The man had been brought into the Inner Circle, sponsored by Bryon Kelvin, and was "bought" by Kelvin, and paid to sweep any suspicious activities Kelvin was involved in under the rug in legality. Metcalf knew the man reported back everything discussed by the Inner Circle. But with Kelvin dead, the man had no more ties with…

_No, Bryon Kelvin is still alive?_

"We have been betrayed!" he shouted.

Metcalf went for a pistol he hid under his white robe, but it was too late. Sasha and Samuel fired, killing the other members of the Inner Circle, quickly slaughtering them like cattle, with Metcalf being hit several times. He dropped.

Mathu came to stand next to him, quickly and excitedly running down. "You've ruined everything!" Metcalf said, his mouth seething with blood, coughing to annex breath. "This is the end!"

Mathu shook his head, leaning down with a gun pressing against Metcalf's skull. "You're wrong, Wiberforthe. This is a new beginning."

And with a fatal shot, the Inner Circle died.

**To be continued...**


	14. The Fallen

**CHAPTER 13 - "THE FALLEN"**

With a hairline scar running vertical across his left eye caused by explosive debris from the attack on the mansion one week ago, Lukas retrieved medical attention for it. But the gash was deep enough that it would take some time to heal. In the meantime, he actually felt it as his own "eye patch" much like his brother Ciel who had the sight in his right eye taken after being tortured by a group called the Inner Circle, and who supposedly murdered his parents and wanted to shame the Phantomhive name for reasons unknown.

Not everything was clear why the Inner Circle turned on Vincent Phantomhive, who was once a member, but it may have had something to do with the birth of a new power sect to rival the Inner Circle, called: "the Aristocrats of Justice"_, _as least as far as Tanaka had said. The Inner Circle wanted to create disorder and chaos in England for a personal agenda, Vincent's new sect wanted to keep order. But as the Phantomhive's were _lords of the underworld_, Luksa thought "the Aristocrats of Evil" was a more suitable name for them.

Perhaps it was, and Tanaka was just protecting him from the truth, that his father - Vincent Phantomhive, despite working for the Queen as her loyal guard dog - was in fact, himself, a criminal with his own agenda. Regardless of the truth, it was good to be a part of his _real_ family again. He vowed Bryon Kelvin, if still alive, would pay for the years he took Lukas away from his family.

After the attack on the mansion, Ciel revealed to him much about his family history, his parents, and a great deal of other things. Lukas was very intrigued that in such a short time, after his ordeal with the Inner Circle, Ciel had managed to crawl out of the depths of Hell and to stand tall on his own self-made pedestal, to run _Fantom Co._ their father's company, and again rebuild and maintain the Phantomhive name as a pillar of respectability in England.

And now he - no longer Leic, but Lukas Phantomhive, fraternal twin to Ciel Phantomhive - would be a part of their family's rich history, in not only social circles but also lords of the underworld. Although this amused Lukas, he accepted what he would have to undertake now that he was back in the family. Ciel had even commissioned an artist to paint a family portrait with Lukas included, as none had been painted before, because Lukas had been too sick for one to be done; his face disfigured by an unknown disease.

Ciel and Lukas would be the new face of the Phantomhive family name, scarred as they were. But much like his brother, he would embrace his battlescars much like a tribesman would in Africa, accepting a tattoo after a trail to show his elevation in society and courage in the fear of danger. It showed strength and respect, that you fought against the world and won. Lukas knew the scar across his eye probably wouldn't be the last scar he'd receive because the men who attacked the mansion were still out there, but he and his brother would face the world together, and they would conquer all who defied attack the Phantomhive's.

Lukas entered Ciel's office after sitting for what felt like hours on a stool in the Sitting Room, and very still for the artist to paint _his_ image to the canvas next to his brother's, who had sat in the same manner only hours before. The artist felt it better to paint the portrait in parts, rendering each separately but together into a single image on canvas.

Ciel was seated behind his desk working on some papers. When Lukas entered. He was a busy "man", as the head of the Phantomhive family businesses, and oversaw all financial matters and ventures, with Sebastian's help. Tanaka, despite in his late seventies ,was the public face of _Fantom Co_. respectfully because of Ciel's age. When he reached a certain age, then he could run his family's companies solely. But now an older face would be more accepted for business than a child's.

Lukas sat down in a chair on the other side of the desk, and signed. "I never knew doing nothing for hours could be so exhausting," he said.

Ciel snorted amused slightly, but he did not look up from his work.

Sebastian entered soon afterwards with refreshments on a silver platter. He placed them on the desk in an empty area so not to disturb his master's work. Lukas knew Sebastian did most of the work, but Ciel had to sign off on it, and reading it all must have been tiresome in its own rite.

What Lukas learned over the past week was that _Fantom Co._ owned many toy factories in many parts of the British Commonwealth and also aboard, also having its hands in other ventures such as clothing, construction and the food industry, and was expanding into other areas.

Lukas found it all exciting and he wanted to be a part of the family business. But it had only been a week since his amnesia had apparently lifted, although not everything had been restored - he still felt certain memories may have been lost or buried - and Ciel felt it best that Sebastian first educate him on Phantomhive commerce before helping. And indeed that education from Sebastian was very helpful, and he started to understand _Fantom Co._ with much clarity. But he could understand his brother's somewhat reluctance to have Lukas dwell into the family business without further business education. He had ideas to help, and presented them to his brother, but it was up to him and Sebastian to see if they were viable.

"Thank you, Sebastian," Lukas said, taking a finger sized cucumber sandwich from the platter, eating it. "At first I could not get used to the rich food, but I believe my stomach it accepting it."

Sebastian smiled. "My pleasure," he said. "And the waste baskets thank-you as well."

Ciel handed Sebastian a handful of papers. "These are signed. They can be delivered to their respected proprietors." Not even smiling at the apparent joke Sebastian had just made.

"Very good, sir."

The butler accepted them. Lukas knew that Sebastian would have to put them into envelops, address them, and add the Phantomhive wax seal as prove that had come from Ciel Phantomhive. A return address was unnecessary as long as their was a seal to bind the back of the envelope. Many high families used this method and it also showed their status in society.

Lukas stood up. "Let me help."

This caught Ciel's attention. "Sebastian is quite capable of doing it himself. And on the same note, let the servants do their jobs, don't help any of them. I pay _them_ to do their jobs. I've seen you in the gardens with Finny pruning the bushes, and with Mey-Rin helping with the bedding, and with Bardroy in the kitchen. You are a Phantomhive, you're my brother, act like it."

Lukas felt his face fold in as he try to hide a sneer. Why did his brother have such a self-righteous attitude? Just because he had lived with servants all his life to abide by his wishes day and night, didn't mean everyone had to. They had had this argument on more than one occasion in the past week. He may be a Phantomhive, but he had an inbred instinct to help others, much like his father - Vincent - from what he had been told by Tanaka. His father held many social dinner parties and sponsored charity associations to help the under privileged, and while he never got his hands dirty, he never put anyone down.

He was about to say something, when he saw Sebastian put up a hand. The man was more than a butler, and was often in the middle of these arguments, acting as a stopping block when things got too heated. This time, one look from him, shut Lukas up. Ciel was too self-absorbed anyway and Lukas felt it was worthless to waste energy on getting angry on an issue each of them had different view points on. And regardless, despite Lukas's view of non-servantitude - he always had to do things on his own - they were _Ciel's_ servants, and it was not proper to argue in front of them. It would undermine the master's authority.

With the mental breathing exercises he had learned from somewhere, he took a few breaths, and quickly composed himself. He nodded. "Very well, brother. I'll allow the servants to do their respected jobs, but let me say this: we may be brothers, but we were brought up with very different values. Our father would agree with me on this: a man stands on his own two feet and asks for no-one's help. I may have been away for a few years, but I never remembered you as an arrogant, supercilious -

"Enough!" Ciel shouted, slamming his ink pen to the desk, snapping it in two. "Get out! I will not have this argument again!"

Sebastian had put his hand to his face in an expression of abashment, and Lukas saw this. Lukas had tried to calm himself, but apparently the issue was just too much of a hot topic.

And with that, Lukas turned around and stormed out of his brother's office having nothing more to say, slamming the door behind.

* * *

Grell Sutcliff was slightly amused.

As a Reaper, he had seen humans wage war against each other countless time and each time it entertained him.

Watching from the shadows in a darkened alcove in the secret amphitheatre of the Inner Circle, or what used to be their secret gathering place, he witnessed as one of their own turned his back on them and the rest were slaughtered with ruthless efficiency - murdered by rapid gun fire by twin assassins.

He knew who they were: Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt. Every Reaper knew who these twin killers were, and because of them lately, the Reapers had been working over time, cataloging dead souls and their cinematic records - what humans saw just before their death, playing back their entire life from birth to death.

But as for the other two, he didn't care who they were. Regardless of the events of humans, he was here for only one reason, to collect the dead's souls. He could mask himself from the human's sight and just waltz right down to the dead, catalog their deaths and return back to the Reaper Academy to file them away. But he had six files with him, and there were only five humans dead. There was one more to come.

He opened the sixth man's file and read it: George Stillwell. And today he died along with five other men. He was the crown attorney who betrayed his brethren, but the file didn't say how he dies. Only in an unexpected way.

Stillwell came to stand next to the smaller man, called Mathu, in the centre of the amphitheatre, looking down at his fallen brethren, rittled dead with bullets with blood filling the floor. He even stepped in one men's blood and made a shoe print. He lifted his leg and tried to wipe it off his shoe on the clothes of another dead man.

Grell hated betrayers.

The last betrayer he encountered was a woman named Angelina Duiless, known to many in high end social circles as Madame Red, because she wore red everywhere and her hair was the same. She had also been masquerading as London's most notorious serial killer: Jack the Reaper, whom Grell killed because she went soft; he helped her kill her targets, murdering prostitutes because they decided to have abortions at the flip of a hat because they were in the sex trade while she could no longer have children due to an accident that took both her husband and unborn child from her womb. So she killed those who took for granted the gift of life. Her nephew Ciel Phantomhive was going to expose her crimes. She was also jealous of him, being her sister's child. She loved his father, but Vincent Phantomhive chose her sister to court and marry instead.

Madame Red couldn't kill him, so Grell killed her. What did he care, he was a Reaper, he couldn't be punished. Or so he thought. Another Reaper stopped him and admonished him when he attempted to murder Ciel's butler Sebastian Michealis. Grell was put on probation and his specialized deathscythe was taken. Now he went around gathering souls to restore his prior status. How long that would take, he didn't know, but on occasion he met up with Sebastian Michealis (Bassie, as he called him) and his little pup master; this was not one of those times, but he waged that something about these murders did have a connection to them. In fact, this was the same amphitheatre where Ciel Phantomhive summoned his butler demon.

"How shall we dispose of the bodies?" Stillwell said.

Savannah, the woman gypsy, took a step forward. "You need not worry about that," she said, giving Mathu a look. They had both looked up at the woman from the centre floor, but apparently Mathu was the only one who noticed the woman's secret message behind her look, as Grell observed.

Stillwell said, "When do I get paid?"

Mathu gave Stillwell his undivided attention. He rubbed an inch on the side of his right temple with the barrel of his gun. "You're not."

"What? But you promised me $25,000 and I'd defend your uncle if it came to that for his crimes."

"My uncle is a sick man, but I care for him still. He doesn't need legal representation, what he needs is a psychotherapist. But thank you for leading us to the others; you services are no longer required. Besides, I lost your $25,000 in horse race this afternoon. Lady Luck just wasn't with me, and neither is she with you."

Mathu quickly pointed his gun it at the man and fired. Stillwell fell down like a wet sack.

_An unexpected way, indeed, _Grell mused.

"The Inner Circle is dead."

"He'd sell his own grandmother for enough money," Sasha remarked with a chuckle. His twin brother shared the same sentiments and chuckled as well.

"Greed and corruption," Mathu said. "It'll forever be a part of the courts."

"Metcalf was correct in one regard, however," Savannah said. "We do need to gain control of Lukas Phantomhive. The Doctor gave us the activation phrase. We'll use the boy for us." She seemed to wander her gaze to certain darkened areas of the room for a moment, even taking a long look at where Grell was hiding. But they couldn't see him. He was only visible to whom he wished to see him. She then looked back at Mathu, who was making his way slowly up a flight of steps to the upper tiers.

"I agree, but we'll worry about the boy later. Our primary plan is engage in subterfuge. The Inner Circle's plan to usurp the Queen was ill-repose, but Lukas Phantomhive's brainwashing can work in our favour, as long as we obtain what we need. And that means…"

Mathu had not yet made it to the upper tier of the amphitheatre when he and Savannah both looked towards the darkened place when Savannah had taken a long gaze at only moments before.

"…a _Reaper_." Mathu smiled broadly. "Please, make your presence known to us, Reaper. No need to hide any longer. We know you're there."

Grell glanced at both in turn dumbfounded. No, they were only bluffing. They didn't know he was here. And yet, how did these humans know about Reapers? Reapers were supernatural entities only appearing to a person at the last moments of their death, and only to that person. Unless he wanted a person to see him. And they were few. He remained where he was.

"Reaper, come out," Savannah said, she said looking directly at him. She appeared to be gazing directly into his eyes, as he looked into hers. "I can feel your presence. You can not hide from me."

Grell now recalled Savannah. She was from a clan of wandering gypsies and a very powerful fortune-teller. A couple of years ago, she hooked up with Mathu, and together they concocted plans to rule the underworld of London. With her special gift, they were able to insert themselves into the highest circles. The only strange thing was Savannah refused to help Mathu with his gambling addiction. She thought it was a sin. So it was ironic that he hooked up with a fortune-teller who could help him win every time, but didn't; regardless, he was still very wealthy. As for the twin killers, they were merely hired help, who turned on the Inner Circle for their own greed and self-ambition. He knew all this from their life files.

But how could they know he was here?

Then he realized where exactly he was. This was a place of devil worship and it had demonic energies swirling within. The Inner Circle practiced not only human sacrifice here to praise their _god_, but it was also a gateway to the underworld, and not the London underworld. This is where Sebastian first met Ciel Phantomhive, summoned via here because of its demonic aura. Mathu Kelvin had briefly eluded to this, but could the energies here make Grell visible to them?

Death begets death.

It was then that Grell saw the Latin spirit script on the wall throughout the amphitheatre. It was carved into the wall, but done so in such a way that it could only been scene from a certain vantage point and light. He spoke Latin, but there was just too much to cipher. It was used to keep spirits from entering its borders, it also had the same effect of keeping spirits from getting out once activated.

And he felt it had been activated. If these people could see him, then could its influence make him visible to them? Indeed, it looked like it.

Had they lured him into a trap by murdering the Inner Circle members?

Most humans feared Reapers for their deathly nature. Reapers only came at the point of death. These people didn't appear frightened in the slightest. And he wondered why.

He stepped out into the open. His flamboyant dress attire - black with a blood red overcoat that he took from Madame Red after he killed her, taking as a souvenir. and his long red hair - embodied death in all its colored aspects. He faced the foursome, eying them one by one. Neither seemed shocked by his presence.

But he would not let known what he saw, the Latin script on the walls or his possible entrapment. Despite a Reaper, he was bound by spirit script like every other death entity. But he also had one thing working for him. And he could kill this humans if need be.

"Nice place you have here," Grell said conversionally. "So filled with death, almost feels like home." He smiled, showing his razor sharp teeth.

"How wonderful! An actual Reaper," Mathu said excitedly, as if said by a child who just got a new toy for the holidays.

"You've been busy I see." Grell eyed the six dead men at the centre of the circular amphitheatre floor. And he named off each of the Inner Circle members' names. This seemed to irk Mathu slightly, but only for a moment. "You know, in certain beliefs, there is a place for people like you."

Mathu smiled back with confidence. "Indeed. Nothingness. Heaven and Hell are but illusionary ideals concocted by susceptible people to retain order among the chaotic masses. I am not one of them."

"That is abundantly clear," Grell said. "So, down to the main question: You brought me here and you can see me now. Why?"

"Let's not rhetoric ourselves, we both know the power this amphitheatre possesses. It was built even before Stonehenge and holds demonic power far greater than any in comprehension."

"And you think it can hold me here? You are mistaken." Grell smiled. "No one traps a Reaper."

"No? Then you are mistaken. But you need not fear me."

"I agree. But you should fear me. Despite not being in my files," he indicated the folders he held, "I can kill you on a whim. I am a death Reaper, I have the power. All humans fear death."

"Fear is for the weak-minded and your threats are idol and worthless," Mathu said, shrugging. "You were brought here for a purpose."

"And that is? Except to show me the malice humans are capable of."

Mathu smirked. "Indeed. I need to see one of _their_cinematic records." He pointed at the six dead men.

Grell's eyes widened. "Their what? How do you know about cinematic records? Only the dying see their life pass before their eyes, and only Reapers can show it to them."

"Experience is knowledge. I _know_everything about them and you - Grell Sutcliff, and of course, the Reaper Academy."

It took Grell a moment to piece it together. Much like certain religions had their stories, each was based on a fact although exaggerated. No human, other than a few he had encountered over the years - certainly not these four - should know him, about cinematic records, or how to trap a Reaper within spirit script. Unless they had a certain knowledge. Unless they were…

"You're a fallen Reaper," he said, and then looked to each in turn. No wonder they _felt_different to him. "You're all fallen Reapers!"

Mathu smiled broadly. He was the talkative of the four, but he and Savannah appeared to be on the same footing. The twins he felt were different - one Reaper split in to two bodies, but sharing the same mind. Irony for them.

Fallen Reapers, much like Fallen Angels, were Reapers "fired" for extreme measures of their duties. He had never met any fallen reapers, but he had heard of a few that had "fallen" and then were cast out for causing chaos in the human world for personal gain. And Grell had almost become one when he teamed with Madame Red in the Jack the Ripper case. But he had been punished and was put on probation, repenting.

Fallen Reapers were very dangerous, owning no allegiance to follow anyone or any rules. They killed for fun and did whatever they wanted. There was an entire department at the Academy to deal with these Reapers. But it appeared that these Reapers were good at remaining undetected. Fallen reapers find ways of inhabiting a human's body without permission from the host and live in it, burying the host's own personality deep within the subconscious; fallen reapers' own bodies stripped from them for their crimes, wandering eternally in spirit form unable to do or touch anything.

It now looked like with these four had found a way to live again.

**To be continued…**


	15. The Fallen Part 2

**CHAPTER 14 - "THE FALLEN - PART 2"**

These four _humans_ were Fallen Reapers.

Grell Sutcliff eyed each of them from the top tier of the secret amphitheatre once home to the meeting place of the Inner Circle, now all dead, and a sudden anxiousness came over him. Despite them being stripped of their powers as Reapers, the power within this structure gave them a certain advantage. And he could feel the amphitheatre's demonic aura of power swirling all around him.

Even for a Reaper, this feeling unnerved him. This was just not any feeling, this was a feeling of death unlike any other, a death so cold and callous that no one would be immune from its clasp of insidiousness.

He was trapped here, but so were they. The spirit script carved within the walls kept the Fallen Reapers from leaving this place.

If he denied their request to show the six dead men's cinematic records, what could they do? No one can hurt a Reaper other than another Reaper, or a _death-entity_, like Sebastian Michaelis, a demon - much like when they fought on the roof tops of White Chapel.

But these Fallen Reapers showed no resolution of malice when it came to getting what they wanted, killing these men just to have a Reaper show up.

But just what was it were they looking for in the cinematic records of these men?

Grell knew of no rule of showing cinematic records to others, other than the so-to-be deceased, it just showed the life a person lead. It needed to be done for each person, or that person's spirit could not pass on…trapped within their bodies for eternity. A person must be allowed to see their life in its entirety, it was the job of a Reaper to do so. Reapers were intermediaries between life and death, the bridge from existence to nothingness. What religion humans believed in was moot. Mathu was right, there was no _other_ place.

He saw Mathu gaze heavily across the amphitheatre at him from a flight of steps as he made his way to the top tier, very nonchalant.

Savannah looked at him straightly from the top tier, and the two twins held their weapons on him from either side - but they ought to know bullets wouldn't hurt him.

He was not afraid of any of them. But there was something wrong, something about this place that didn't feel right that even he was nervous about, and despite being an _death-entity_, he feared this place. But he couldn't show it. He could not show fear in front of these Fallen Reapers.

"Which one, and for what purpose?" Grell asked, referring to the dead men, all laying dead in the centre of the bottom floor of the amphitheatre, their blood flowing and mixing with each other.

"All of them," Mathu said. "I want to see each of their cinematic records. I don't care which one you start with. These are the last members of the Inner Circle, one of them is bound to have it."

"And what is 'it' you're referring to?"

"Just do it!" he demanded. "Now!"

Grell wanted to be defiant, but what would that prove? So he did his job, summoning the cinematic record of each of the dead and recording each for the Reaper archive.

Mathu seemed to look at each record with stern interest. The record didn't play in real-time, and was sped up about five times the speed of normal, but Mathu appeared to know what he was looking for and only concentrated on certain aspects or a particular event.

After Grell had played each man's cinematic record, Mathu crossed his arms disappointed.

The Fallen Reaper frowned. "It's not here," Mathu said. "I could have sworn we'd find it locked away in the mind of one of these six men."

"Now what?" Sasha said irate. "We did all this for nothing?"

"Calm yourself," Mathu said. "It just means it's somewhere else."

"Unless it's gone," Samuel said. "Maybe passed someone else, alive or now dead."

Mathu nodded. "That's a possibility." He mused for a moment, thinking. Then he smiled as if he had had just made a wonderful discovery. "Oh, that's brilliant…and very likely."

"What are you looking for?" Grell asked.

"Pieces of a puzzle," Mathu said cryptically. "I want to see the other cinematic records of the Inner Circle members who died on the day of the Great Death."

"The what?"

"The day when the little Phantomhive boy summoned his demon butler."

Grell's eyes widened. "How do you know about that?" The Fallen Reaper just eyed Grell sternly, not willing to answer the question. "I can't do that," he said. "Those are privileged records and especially not for the eyes of Fallen Reapers. If the Academy learns what happened here, they could take away by Reaper license forever."

"That's not my concern," Mathu said. The Fallen Reaper turned to Savannah. "I think _the boy_ is more important than was originally thought."

"Do you think the information was passed onto him through his brainwashing and then forgotten?" she said.

"Perhaps," Mathu nodded. "But I'm not sure."

"Then why bother with the other cinematic records?" Sasha said.

"Yes, I agree. Let's just get the boy back!" Samuel said.

"You tried that, remember? And Ciel Phantomhive has that damn demon beat you, even with a hundred men at your disposal. Get too close and he'll sense you for what you really are. If he kills you, you'll need to search for other bodies. Once we get the information we need, then we'll get our own bodies back."

"That's impossible!" Grell said. "Once Fallen Reaper's bodies are destroyed, they're gone forever."

"We have reason to believe they're not. You see, nothing is truly gone. Let me enlighten you to one of the most brilliant thinkers of the 18th century, Sir Issac Newton. He said, and I quote: "_Energy cannot be created, nor destroyed. It can only be transformed from one form to another. Humans are made of energy; we are bio-thermal factories. As such, we are subject to the same scientific laws of the universe as any other form of energy. So, when we die, the energy has to go somewhere."_

"So how does that help you to get your bodies back?"

"Memories are to reality as reality is to our eyes. The mere remembrance of our bodies can bring them back. And if someone has stored the memory of what we looked like in the mind of Lukas Phantomhive, for whatever reason that was, we can use those memories to restore our original forms, and not continue to jump from body to body, as we have for centuries since we _fell_."

Grell shook his head confused. "How will memories of your bodies restore them? And how can Lukas Phantomhive have the memories of your real bodies if he was only born less than thirteen years ago? You're not making any sense."

"You're thinking too literally. Humans believe in reincarnation, and so does this planet. And we have followed the bloodline of the Phantomhive's for centuries, unable to find the person who holds the memories we need to fulfill our wish. Until now. I believe Vincent Phantomhive had the memories we needed, and now his two sons do, more so Lukas Phantomhive. But it would be better to retrieve them from a more stable source. What would be his father."

Grell was still confused.

"Let me explain," Mathu said. "Memories are a result of chemical reactions within the brain, and chemicals last forever. When a person dies, what a person is collapses to dust and ashes back into the Earth. Much like Newton's law, matter can not be created or destroyed, so it is transformed back into a new vessel, but still retains the memory of its past, ever building new ones.

"If a person tells a story, new chemicals are birthed from existing ones to retain an image of the story being told. Then it is passed on. Or think of it this way, even a drop of sweat or a tear can pass on a lifetime of memories because it holds the chemicals of that person from birth to that point in time. Shake a man's hand, and the moisture from it can pass on your entire life to that person and that of your past ones through chemical transference.

"Can you not see the brilliance or this? This would also mean humans know the existence of their universe by the chemicals they possess in their bodies passed down from generation to generation or interaction with their fellow kind, even if its own a chance encounter."

"You forget, however. The human brain can only handle one personality at a time, or it will implode. That's why during reincarnation of human energy, the cinematic record is wiped clean to start anew with a new life. I think I understand your theory, but those who believe in past-lives still keep their established personalities dominant. Those who believe they _are_ their past lives are jailed in psychiatric hospitals."

"Because of chemical imbalances," Mathu said straightly. "Unfortunately human medicine has not grown to the point to understand these imbalances. Over time we four have learned quite a lot about the human condition and its chemical reactions. Eventually modern medicine will catch up to what we've learned, but we're so close now. No more waiting. It's time to take back what you Reapers have stolen from us."

"So what do you intend to do? You Fallen Reapers are trapped here like me."

Mathu pulled out a small object attached to a gold chain from around his neck. It was a Triad. And the object had a separate triad within.

A triad consisted of three points: beginning, middle, end. And much like an infinity circle, it always returned to the starting point. The inner triad meant three additional points existed within the original triad, meaning dimensional points, subjecting a spiritual domain.

Grell saw each of the Fallen Reapers had one. This meant with those triads, the Fallen Reapers could pass through an spiritual barrier without harm, not bound by its infinite script, while he remained trapped. He couldn't warn Sebastian Michealis of these four, to defend his masters.

Grell was taken aback. "Where did you get those? Who in the Academy helped you? Other Reapers?"

"Others, who feel our cause is worthy, sympathizers, if you will. And when we are successful, our cause will open the door for other Fallen Reapers to follow," Mathu said. "Now, give me your deathscythe."

"What? No. Tell me who you were as a Reaper?"

"It will make little consequence, but I'll give you hint. I worked in one of the top special branches that worked on secret projects. In fact, I was banished because of the project I was working on that involved the alteration of space and time, so Reapers could move more fluently. But then I thought, why use it for merely that? Why not steal secrets, and change events. I got tired of just being a Reaper, I wanted more.

"I then found an advanced race of humans living on an island off the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. They we so advanced for the times, I never knew humans could be such when other parts of the world still consisted of the likes of Neatherthal man. I gave them weapons and knowledge so they could expand their kingdom. They were a peaceful people when I first meant them, but like the old adage says: power corrupts. And they destroyed themselves with dark energy, disappearing like ashes in the wind. I was punished and cast out of the Reapers for this."

"Are you talking about Atlantis? That was over ten thousand years ago!"

Mathu shrugged. "This is my brother." He gestured to the twins, his soul split into two bodies. "And my wife." To Savannah. "We worked together and we were punished together. From that little story, you might be able to work out who we are, but it won't matter. There's nothing the Reapers can do. So I ask again, give me your deathscythe."

"I'm just a gatherer, not a record keeper. The ledgers of those individuals, the Inner Circle including Vincent Phantomhive, are with Records; it's out of my hands. My deathscythe can not gain you access to the Hall of Records."

Mathu smiled. "But it can get us to the point of moment of the Great Death with the knowledge as a former Reaper I possess, and we'll see who passed on the information to Lukas Phantomhive after seeing their cinematic records."

"Vincent Phantomhive died before this so-called Great Death you speak of, as did his wife. His son, Ciel was slated to die that night too, and tortured until…"

"Until the boy summoned a demon to slaughter the Inner Circle. Yes, we know. But in getting to Vincent Phantomhive before another Reaper plays his cinematic record, we can view it and find what we seek."

"And what if he doesn't have what you're looking for?...or someone else has it?"

"I'm confident Vincent Phantomhive has what we want."

Grell mulled it over in his mind, and then handed over his deathscythe. He knew it was a violation to hand over "company" equipment to unqualified personnel, as his superior Will would say, but he did so anyway. He knew they couldn't harm him, but he wanted to see the looks on their faces when they saw it.

He placed the pair of miniature scissors in Mathu's hand when he came to collect it. The look on his face was priceless, but Grell repressed a smile.

Mathu held the tiny deathscythe in the palm of his hand. "What the hell is this? I said give me your deathscythe!"

"That is my deathscythe," Grell explained. "You see, I was punished for engaging in an act much like Fallen Reapers, but instead of being banished, I was put on probation and my unique, one-of-a-kind deathscythe was taken away and I was given this one. You should've seen it, that deathscythe was a work of art - "

"Silence! Stop joking around! I want your 'deathscythe', a weapon of great magnitude that all Reapers carry. Be it a half moon razor blade attached to a staff or something else of equal devastation. This is _not_ a death scythe! This wouldn't cut string, little lone cut a hole in space and time so we can travel back -"

Savannah came to stand next to her husband. "Calm yourself, Mathu," she said. "He's just playing with us."

"I assure you, Madam, I am not." And Grell explained to them what he had done to deserve his punishment and this tiny deathscythe. "So, if you had planned to use my deathscythe for your scheme, sorry. You lose."

Mathu squeezed the deathscythe in his hand and blood oozed out from his closed fist, the blades cutting his flesh. The plan it must have delivered to his human body must have been excruciating, but he didn't show it.

He threw it back at Grell, covered in blood. Grell caught it.

"Oh, disgusting!" Grell said, his black gloves now covered in human blood. He cleaned it off, and put it back in his overcoat pocket.

"What now?" Savannah said.

"Yeah, what now, dear brother," Sasha and Samuel said in unison, sardonically. They were of one mind, so they spoke of one voice.

"I never expected this," Mathu said. "Out of all the Reapers we could've captured, we had to catch one whose been emasculated."

Mathu folded his arms across his chest in hard thought, and Grell saw the Fallen Reaper's eyes moving from side to side looking at nothing in particular, almost trying to readjust a once well thought out forged plan in his mind. The fore finger of his right hand twitched on his left bicep like a fast piano pendulum as he thought.

But Grell knew he had inadvertently foiled the Fallen Reapers' plans. Who knew that his punishment would do some good? Now all he had to do is escape this place and tell the other Reapers about these Fallen four.

Mathu's finger quickly stopped twitching and he smiled broadly, cocking his head slightly. He looked back at Grell, his eyes as cold as ice.

"If we can't use your deathscythe to travel back in time, then we bring _the Great Death _to us," he said. "I believe he's still leached to that that little pup, correct? Through him, we can get to either Vincent's two children. Then we'll drain their memories from their minds and restore our bodies."

"You don't mean…" Grell said.

Mathu smiled. "They say people who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it. I say, without history, how can we learn at all." The Fallen Reaper took out a black book from the back pants pocket. "I am prepared for every eventuality."

It was a book of dark magical spells, and he opened it to a bookmarked page, and with a few spoken phrases, the energy in the amphitheatre intensified thickeningly, and the Latin script embedded in the wall began to glow a blood, almost gothic red.

"It's time to bring the demon back home to roost," Mathu said over the swirling atmosphere of the demonic aura being stirred up in the amphitheatre. "It's time for _the Great Death _to return for an encore. Only this time, he will obey me, or he'll never get his _master's_ precious little soul that he hungers for."

Mathu raised his hands into the air, as if to pray to the heavens. He closed his eyes, and said, "O' great demon, I beset you! I summon thee to this house of death! Come to me, Sebastian Michaelis!"

**To be continued…**


	16. Change of Plans

**CHAPTER 15 - "CHANGE OF PLANS"**

Still angry with his brother, Lukas Phantomhive reluctantly sat at the same table with Ciel for the nightly meal, albeit in the Dining Hall at the end of the elongated table. Ciel sat at the other end, sitting the farthest away from Lukas as humanly possible.

This was the first time Lukas had sat at his table since he had been trapped by the duo of his brother and Sebastian Michaelis, his butler, given a truce serum, and threatened with torture if he didn't reveal the true nature of his coming to the Phantomhive mansion. In the end, the amnesia Lukas had been suffering from and still was, caused all the memories since he had been kidnapped by members of the Inner Circle, including a close friend of his father, Bryon Kelvin, now believe dead, to be forgotten. Just recently he had reacquinted himself with some of those lost memories with the help of his brother and Tanaka, but only of the Phantomhive family, none from the time he had been kidnapped.

But now that he was once again a part of the Phantomhive family, he still felt apart from his brother, who had refused to speak with him since their argument this afternoon. Ideologies clashed when it came to the issue of servitude and self-reliance. Lukas felt Ciel should learn to do certain things on his own to gain some independence, but Ciel was adamant that that was ludicrous, because that's why he had servants.

The Phantomhive's were rich beyond the dreams of avarice, and the number of servants a family had sometimes spoke volumes about a family's status in society. But these servants were unlike any Lukas had ever known, and they were more than just that. They were protectors, hired by Ciel and Sebastian against his enemies. Being _lords of the underworld_ had a hefty price tag to it. A lot people hated Ciel. The battle on the back property was proof of just how effective these servants were. They were strong, smart, and weapon-savvy. But afterwards, they appeared to fall back into their servant roles, including Mey-Rin, returning to her role as the ditsy, half-blind housemaid, Finny, the sometimes over-clueless gardener, and Bardroy, the often inept-chef. And he wondered, were they just playing dumb or was this just another act to fool everyone other than the family?

Bardroy's cooking tonight left him on the fence about it. Only half of the cook's meals came out right. Unfortunately Sebastian had other business to attend to, so he couldn't cook tonight, only serve. But even he admitted tonight wasn't one of Bardroy's better nights in the kitchen.

Lukas and Ciel ate in complete silence.

Sebastian was an excellent butler, Lukas thought, and he wondered were Ciel had managed to acquire such a very competent man. Sebastian appeared to be versed in everything from social matters to historical ideology. He was a young man, but he had had such a vast amount of knowledge about _everything_, he wondered how such a man could know so much in such a short lifetime?

Sebastian had a well-bred accent, that he must have been born in England to a well-to-do family, or at least that's what Lukas concluded. But there was just something about him that made Lukas feel uneasy, and he could not explain the feeling. There was a certain coldness and calculation to everything Sebastian did that he almost had a secret agenda, a plan to forge his way forward for some lofty goal, and Ciel was only a stepping stone on towards it.

Ciel and Sebastian were very close as master and servant, but they had only began their association a little more than two years ago. He had to admit, much like a dog adopted into a family in as little as this much time a strong bond could be fused, however, they were _only_ master and servant, not family, and there had to be a distance between them. He didn't find this to be the case. Despite Ciel treating Sebastian as his servant, Lukas saw a camaraderie between them that closely-tied them like they had some sort of unspoken _promise_, a contract. Like if you do something for me, I'll give you something of mine. Payment. Something like that.

Regardless of his thoughts, Sebastian appeared good for his brother. Since their parent's had been murdered by the Inner Circle, which was an act of revenge against them for what they about to do - possibly exposing the Inner Circle's plans to usurp the Queen and impose their own rule - Sebastian had become like a parental figure to Ciel, helping him with his schooling, social edict, and financial matters when it came to _Fantom Co_. His brother was strong, almost arrogant at time, but Lukas wondered it was merely a façade to hide just how scared he was in a world that almost destroyed his entire life.

"Will you stop that!"

Lukas looked up from his reverie, staring blankly at his supper, and at his brother. Ciel eyed him with stern indignation from across the table. His right eye had a patch over it, but his other eye seemed to embody the anger of both.

"Pardon?"

"Your fork. Stop tapping it on your plate. It's irritating!"

Lukas hadn't even realized he had been tapping his fork. He was so deep in thought that it must have been an innate reaction to it. "Sorry," he said. "Forgive my irradiance to you, brother. If I knew you were so ill-willed to my company tonight, I would've eaten in my quarters."

"Perhaps you should. I prefer to eat in silence."

Lukas eyed him with equal indignation. "I may not be clamped to this chair this time like last, but the air in this place feels just as stifling." He noticed Sebastian, who was standing in a far corner of the room, once again had put a hand to his face in abasement. "I don't understand why you stay with him, Sebastian, with his insufferable, egomaniacal attitude."

"He serves me," Ciel said, holding a calm. "Nothing more need be said."

Lukas smirked dubiously. "You're wrong, dear brother. He serves us both now. He is a butler with two masters, as I am now back."

"A servant can only serve _one_ master," Ciel's voice elevated with the word 'one'. "If you weren't my brother, I'd have you shot for your disrespect!"

"Then let us settle this like men." Lukas stood up sharply.

"Ten paces?"

"Ten paces? You're bluffing. You'd never shot me."

"And you'd never shoot me?"

Lukas sighed. "No," he said, some of his bravado fading. "I'm not a killer."

"Then _you_ are at an impasse." Ciel drank from his goblet.

"What do you mean _I am _at am impasse? Are you saying, you would not hesitate to shoot me at ten paces?"

Before Ciel could speak, the Dining Room burst open behind Ciel, slamming against the back wall, and Tanaka stood at the threshold, "Enough!"

Both boys looked at him in horrid surprise. Sebastian even turned in utter shock to look at the man who was normally such a quiet, soft spoken man.

"I will not have you two bickering in sibling rivalry, again! You have just been reunited after seven years apart and only after a week together, you are at each other's throats!"

Tanaka's eyes were wide with anger.

Sebastian approached the man with his hands raised. "Please settle down, Tanaka. We can settle this without more anger."

"That's right, we should settle this once and for all!" Lukas declared.

"Settle what?" Ciel turned sharply to Lukas. "This is _my_ mansion, these are _my_ servants. I have nothing to prove!"

"May I interject for a moment?" Sebastian said.

"No!" the boys said in unison.

"But I shall anyway. Let us play a game to settle things."

"This is no time to play games, Sebastian," Ciel said, with anger.

"I agree. A game of Old Maid will not settle things between my brother and I."

"That is not the game I suggest. I mean, a game that gentlemen _play_ to settle disputes. Ten paces."

Ciel looked shocked. "Are you mad?"

"Where is your confidence now, brother?" Lukas said. "I thought you wouldn't hesitate to kill me if had the chance?"

"You don't have the balls to go through with it," Ciel equalized Lukas's brashness. "It is insane anyhow."

"Then you refute a gentlemanly duel? You coward."

Lukas felt the anger seethe off his brother. The stare in Ciel's one eye was enough to feel like a dagger in his heart. "You really want to die? So be it! Tomorrow, at dawn!"

* * *

Sebastian had never not been in control of his surroundings since becoming Ciel Phantomhive's butler. But when it came to his master and his brother's bickering, this had been the first time. And now they planned to shoot each other tomorrow at dawn in _ten paces_, a gentleman's duel where two men walk ten paces, their backs turned, spin around, and then fire at the other to wound or kill, and winner retains their honor.

But Ciel and Lukas Phantomhive where only twelve years old and both had domineering personalities. Regardless of the outcome, he could not let either one die. The contract with Ciel Phantomhive forbid it, and the order by his master had the same effect.

"_Protect my brother at all costs!_" Ciel Phantomhive had said only days before. However, he gathered his master was referring to the Inner Circle, who were out to retrieve Lukas Phantomhive.

But he could not disobey his master's order, no matter the circumstance. He would need to find a way from now until the duel, to safeguard both of Vincent Phantomhive's children from killing each other in a foolish duel of pride. And besides, he could not allow either delicious souls to go to waste.

So he stood thinking in front of the fireplace in his master's study. He had warmed the room by putting three logs on the fire. Living with Ciel Phantomhive and humans these last few years, he missed the inferno that was his home. Being a demon, he liked the temperature very hot.

He felt a tug, more like a spiritual tug. And demonic chant filled his ears.

Simplistic garbage. Humans still believed they could control demons with that rhetoric? Well, demons who were weak-minded, that is.

He was an exception to the rule. Living for centuries, he developed a tolerance for human stupidity. This spiritual script was passed down to humans from demon homage, and over the years humans had foolishly tried to control the spiritual world by trapping _death_ in cages built of invisible barriers to learn the underworld's secrets.

They underestimate me, whoever these others are who seem to know of my existence.,

he thought.

Whoever was calling him, he had no intention of leaving his master's side. He thought it amusing these other human's would even try.

* * *

Mathu lowered his arms in tired resolve. He had been attempting to summon Sebastian Michaelis to the amphitheatre for some time without success.

He knew he didn't have the chants wrong, they were written and proof-read in his little black book, and they had had worked to summon his wife and brother to his side, so they could attach their spirits to the bodies of these others after _the Great Death_. After Sebastian Michaelis. But the demon would not come.

The spiritual barrier of the spiritual script wouldn't have keep him out. The moment Sebastian arrived, one of the others would leave and drag him inside, using a Triad to pass through without harm. He felt nothing was wrong with his chants. Either Sebastian Michaelis couldn't leave the brat's side, or he was unwilling. The demon's contract with Ciel Phantomhive must be stronger than he thought.

Grell Sutcliff laughed. "Not working, I see," the Reaper said. "He's not your atypical demon."

Mathu eyed Grell with indignation. "All demons and the dead must adhere to the spells I've cast, Sebastian Michaelis is no exception. Tell me why he won't come?"

Grell shrugged. "Who knows. He has a contract with a human, that doesn't mean he likes them. In fact, I happen to know he despises them. You don't know Bassie like I do, he can't be summoned like some dog. The only reason he's with Ciel Phantomhive is to devour his soul. But he wants to cultivate it first."

Mathu nodded. "Ah, now I see." He looked at the others. They all nodded in turn, as if understanding what he was thinking. He turned back to Grell. "Ciel Phantomhive summoned Sebastian Michaelis out of hate and malice to kill those who did him wrong, so Michaelis purposely leashed himself to him. Now I understand why he's unwilling to come. Not of loyalty, not of self-entrapment, but of selfishness."

"You seem to know a lot about _that _night here?" Grell said inquisitively.

"That's because I was here _that_ night," Mathu smiled devilishly. "I saw carnage beyond anything wrought by human kind. Ciel summoned Sebastian not only out of hate and malice, but also out of desperation, and he ordered the demon to murder all the members of the Inner Circle in revenge, as he lay dying in a puddle of his own blood, including myself. In fact, we were all there _that_ night."

Grell blinked his eyes in confusion, then his eyes widened in realization. "You all died that night!"

"Correct."

"Then you inhabited these bodies afterward?"

"Correct again, and before one of your Reapers could summon their cinematic records. You see, what human's call the spirit or 'soul' stays in the human body until a Reaper releases it, this is life. The human body is merely a vessel for this life, or should I say possession. Therefore, we still have all the original hosts trapped inside, with all their memories, experiences, in addition to our own. They're buried, we dominate. But that's not to say they don't deserve hell in their cells for their transgressions."

"You were all members of the Inner Circle. Are there more of you?"

Mathu cocked his head slightly. "Do you mean a consortium of Fallen Reapers? Yes, there are more of us, but we four work for ourselves under the guise of our host's identities. The other's…do their own things. But these… are the last of the Inner Circle, as it's known. The Inner Circle died here. All we want is what's ours, then we'll disappear."

"Disappear?"

"Can we get rid of this Reaper?" Sasha said annoyed.

"Yes, he asks too many questions, and frankly, you're obliging him too much," Samuel said.

"And that will be the last answer he'll get," Mathu said in reply. "It's obvious we must alter the original plan. So, if Sebastian Michaelis won't come to us, willingly, we'll just have to force him to acquiesce."

"How?" Grell said.

Mathu stared at Grell for a moment, then said, "If Sebastian Michaelis chooses to ignore even the summoning spells of spiritual dark forces, then we'll use a more direct method, one that he must obey. And one that he'll have no choice but to attempt to control, but will fail trying."

"Again, how?"

Mathu smiled deviously. "We activate Lukas Phantomhive…"

**To be continued…**


	17. The Raven NeverMore

**CHAPTER 16 - "THE RAVEN - NEVERMORE"**

The early morning dew clung to the grass like little tears fallen from the heavens, the sun was just creeping across the horizon to the East, and a slight breeze filled the air with a fresh crispness that that brought a chill to the back grounds of the Phantomhive mansion. But while this new day brought renewal of a sort, it was also a day that may be witness to the finality of one of two lives in a duel to the death.

Sebastian had contemplated on what action he could take to stop this duel, but duty to his master would not allow him to say anything to save face for either Ciel or Lukas Phantomhive, and regardless of what he would have said, they were both hell bent on having this duel. And then there was his master. Ciel Phantomhive would just order him to not interfere. Nonetheless, he could not allow either boy to die today. Their souls were much too valuable to allow to escape this ravenous hunger of his held at bay.

The boys filed out into the back courtyard where the duel would take place. Each of them was dressed in their best clothes. This was a private duel, but to die proper was only socially acceptable in a duel, and to look one's best would give an aura of distinction to the loser despite losing the battle.

Sebastian had already set up. In front of him was a small round table with an intricate carved wooden box with the family crest. Inside were two loaded pistols, hand carved and laced with gold on both the handles and barrels. Tanaka had told Sebastian that the box had only been opened once, and that was when Vincent Phantomhive dueled with another in this very courtyard when he was in his early twenties. It had been a duel of honor, because someone had insulted his bride to be. It was a duel that Vincent had won.

Tanaka was heartbroken, but Sebastian explained that this was the only way the two boys would stop arguing. Whoever survived would be the sole heir to the Phantomhive family. But what Tanaka didn't know was Sebastian did have a secret plan to save both boys, and it would be implemented during the firing shots. He would blow both lead balls off course, so both would miss. This way, the boys would keep their honor and respect would be earned by both - that each had survived a duel to the death.

The servants also attended. Finny, Mey-Rin, and Bardroy were standing afar to watch, and were ordered under any circumstances not to interfere. Tanaka stood next to Sebastian, and met the boys as they approached the table, facing one another.

"You both know the rules," Sebastian started. "You take your pistol and stand back to back. When I say, you begin to walk ten paces. When you reach nine, I will wait a moment, and then shout _Draw_! At this, you will turn and fire upon the other. The last man standing is declared the winner. You only get one shot. Wounding your opponent is still a victory. Is this clear?"

The boys voiced, "Yes!" in unison.

Ciel and Lukas faced each other with an unblinking severity and a determination to win.

"I'm sorry it has to come to this, brother, but you left no alternative," Lukas said.

"You need not worry, _brother_, unlike you, I have fired a pistol more than once," Ciel said.

Lukas lifted his brow in concern. "You have? When?"

"There is quite a deal more you still don't know about me, dear brother," saying the last two words sardonically. "It's a shame that our time together was short."

"Killing me will be harder than you think!"

"We'll see. I have father's experience on my side, as well as my own."

"And I have mine!"

Ciel's looked suspicious. "What do you mean by that?"

Lukas blinked, momentarily confused at his own words. "I-I don't know…"

Sebastian opened the box and gestured to the two flint-lock pistols that were older than both boys' ages combined. Ciel didn't hesitate to grab one, but Lukas took a moment to gaze at wonder at other pistol that once belonged to Vincent Phantomhive, his father. He picked it up and gently held it. It felt light to hold.

"Are they loaded?" Ciel asked Sebastian.

"Yes sir," the butler said. "I did them myself. They will fire one shot only."

"I only need one shot."

Lukas clutched his pistol in challenge to his brother's decree. "So do I," he said, giving Ciel a hard stare.

Sebastian closed the box, and then said, "Before the duel commences, I ask this only once. This challenge is to the death. Do you wish to continue?"

"Please, master Ciel, master Lukas," Tanaka spoke up, "stop this foolishness."

Sebastian had asked Tanaka not to say anything to discourage the duel, as he did the other servants, but the old man, being with the Phantomhive's longer than any one else, obviously wanted a peaceful resolution to be had. Sebastian tried to quiet him without success. Tanaka waved Sebastian off, wanting his say.

"I may only be a butler, and one in the twilight of his life, but I must have say. You are but children, respectfully. Master Ciel, I have seen you grow, I have seen you crawl yourself out of the pit of Hell itself to become the strong, young man today after your father and mother were murdered. And Master Lukas, you are finally back where you belong after being stolen from us. You are a Phantomhive seven years removed, but you are still your father's son. There is so much your brother can learn from the kindness you inherited from your mother. There is so much you can learn from each other. Do not throw it away in foolish pride."

The old man had a glint of a tears in his eyes, and Sebastian saw how much this must be breaking Tanaka's heart. He had been head butler to the Phantomhive's long before, and finally having both children together again in the Phantomhive home apart from their parents, he must have felt it was his duty, even to the end, to watch over them and keep them from harm. Now they were about to have duel to the death where only one of the Phantomhive children will survive.

"Enough Tanaka, do not interfere," Ciel said.

"How can you be so cold?" Lukas said. "Have the years since our parents death blackened your heart to such a degree and only some kind of demonic entity will want it?"

Ciel looked taken back for a moment and gave a brief glance to Sebastian. Then turned back. Ciel's bluster seemed to deflate slightly. "I will admit, Tanaka's words _were_ touching, and he has a right to speak his mind to a certain degree since he was our parents' butler. But this duel is for honor. Let us be at it."

Lukas nodded.

Ciel and Lukas stood back-to-back, their pistols at the ready, pointed up, held right-handed.

Standing like this, Sebastian noticed Lukas looked a fraction of an inch taller than Ciel. Ciel Phantomhive had not had a growth spurt since Sebastian had known him. But Lukas Phantomhive seemed to carry himself a little higher, literally and figuratively, than his brother. Was it out of his own pride, or was it that Ciel was having second thoughts of this duel and his own body slumped slightly in expression of this?

He knew Ciel's history with using a pistol and despite at twelve years of age, he was a remarkable shot. Including his use of a rifle while hunting pheasant and other wild game.

He recalled Ciel had brought a pistol with him as protection when he confronted "Jack the Ripper" in the alley ways of White Chapel, but never used it. Ciel was under orders from the Queen to learn the identity of this serial killer of prostitutes and to do away with him. Jack the Ripper turned out to be his aunt who was murdering sex workers using a selfish rationale because they were abusing the privilege to have children while she could not, having abortions at the tip of a hat. She was later killed by a Grim Reaper name Grell who was her partner in crime, who was then subsequentially punished for his transgression by a more elevated Reaper and taken away.

But Ciel Phantomhive had never killed another person, and Sebastian wondered what sort of reservations he might have having to point and fire a pistol at his very own flesh and blood. He could only imagine if their father and mother were alive today, this duel would not be taking place. But he had no choice but to allow the duel to continue. Any order he disobeyed by his master would be a breach of their contract.

"This is a duel to the last," Sebastian continued. "The rules have been stated clearly. Are you ready?"

"Ready," Ciel said first.

"Ready," Lukas said.

"Then you may begin."

* * *

"This is crazy!" Bardroy said, quietly enough so only Finny an Mey-Rin could hear. They were standing apart from Sebastian and Tanaka, told to do so, and told not to interfere with the duel.

"Oh dear, I hope they both miss; yes, I do!" Mey-Rin said.

"We just got introduced to Master Lukas, and his amnesia is nearly all gone!" Finny said, "Why a duel to the death? Can't they just settle things with a game of Old Maid, or something?" He put his hands over his eyes. "I can't watch this!"

* * *

"I hope to God they both miss," Tanaka said quietly in protest to Sebastian next to him. "If I were their father, I would settle this by whipping them both across the backside. Master Ciel is about to murder his brother in a duel that Master Lukas has no way of winning. Ciel has an unfair advantage."

Sebastian smirked slightly. "Be calm, Tanaka. Trust in a higher power to safeguard them both."

"I've never known you to be a religious man, Sebastian?"

"No, Tanaka. I'm not. I'm just one hell of a butler."

* * *

Sebastian began the countdown.

"One…"

Ciel and Lukas both took a standard, equalized step forward. Each length of a step must match that of his opponent to properly give the other fair distance, that is why each was judged by a watcher. If one opponent steps shorter than the other, it is unfair. And the step can be taken over. If the ill-steps are repeated, it would constitute as cheating, and without firing a shot, that person would immediately lose the duel.

But neither boy would resort to that.

"Two…

"Three…"

Sebastian continued to count, as Tanaka quietly protested. "This can't happen. I will not let these children die unnecessarily. I am their protector since the day their parent's were killed."

But Sebastian ignored the other butler.

"Eight…

"Nine…

Tanaka took a step forward, but Sebastian sensed what he was about to do and forcefully held him back with an arm across the chest, and with a little supernatural power the elderly butler was kept at bay from any interference. Sebastian readied himself to blow the lead balls off course with a swift, supernatural breath.

"Draw!"

Both boys pivoted around quickly, and fired.

Ciel missed, Sebastian had managed to veer his lead ball off its course with a breath. It flew past Lukas and landed somewhere behind him, lost to the grass.

But Lukas's shot had evaded his affluence, and it hit its target.

Ciel jerked back his hand and the pistol flew and dropped to the ground about five feet away. Ciel grabbed his hand, but there was no blood. Ciel looked back at Lukas in utter shock. "What the hell…"

Indeed everyone was shocked.

Lukas more so, as he looked at the pistol that nearly killed his brother, but instead disarmed him. Had he missed? His mind told him no.

"That was a lucky shot!" Finny said excitedly, now that the duel had concluded, all the servants came to stand next to Lukas.

"I…" Lukas dropped the gun.

"You dirty, rotten lair!" Ciel cursed. "You have fired a pistol before! That was a marksman shot! You shot the pistol out of my hand!"

Sebastian attended to Ciel's hand, but there was no wound to say of. He then picked up the pistol from the ground and examined it. There was a large dent in the barrel of the ground where the lead ball must have hit it, knocking it out of Ciel's hand after he fired his own shot.

Ciel examined it also. Lukas approached him, looking at the gun in Sebastian's hand.

"That was an impossible shot, and especially for you!" Ciel barked, pointing at Lukas.

"Indeed," Sebastian agreed. "It appears Master Lukas has a hidden skill none of us were made aware of."

Lukas blinked apprehensively. "I also."

Tanaka took the pistol from Sebastian and placed it in the box with the other one that the elder butler had picked up. Tanaka smiled. "I am pleased things turned out alright," he said. "You are both alive."

"Alive?" Ciel grabbed Lukas's shirt with a hand, scrunching the collar in a tight fist, his anger washing over him like a plague of locus. "What are you hiding? Tell me now!"

Lukas suddenly grabbed Ciel's arm and his shirt, and using his brother's own body weight against him, tossed him over his shoulder and to the ground behind him. Ciel landed with a heavy thud.

"Master!" Sebastian cried, rushing over. "Are you alright?" He helped Ciel to sit up. Ciel wasn't severely hurt, but landing the way he did smart.

Ciel rubbed the back of his head. "I am fine," he said calmly. "There is more to him than meets the eye."

"I agree," Sebastian said, picking Ciel up and cradling the boy in his arms like a child.

"Put me down!" Ciel protested.

"Are you alright?" asked Lukas, as Sebastian stood Ciel on his feet.

Ciel brushed dirt off his trousers. The grass stains would remain until washed out. He eyed Lukas, and then smiled, extending out a hand. "I concede to the better man." Lukas slowly extended his hand to shake Ciel's; they shook. "But remember, I never forget a defeat. And I learn from it."

Lukas nodded, but he couldn't say the same with his partial amnesia.

"You must tell me where you learnt these wonderful skills from," Ciel said in a calm tone.

Lukas took a moment to answer. "I-I don't know," he stammered.

* * *

The reminder of the day spanned relatively uneventful, and Sebastian observed Ciel was pleasant to his brother during the entire day, albeit it being somewhat unnatural for him.

His master was very proud, but also a very proper English gentleman. And losing such a duel to his newly-acquainted brother by what seemed like a fluke shot to some but an expert shot to others, must have been grinding away in him inside, and it appeared Ciel had erected a mask of humility to deal with it.

The night was late when Sebastian was summoned to Ciel Phantomhive's quarters, the ring of the servant's bell alerted him that his master wanted him for whatever reason. He was preparing a late night snack for Master Lukas in the kitchen, in the form of warm milk and banana slices to help him sleep more soundly - Lukas said he had been having a difficult time sleeping recently - when he received the call.

He knocked on the door. Ciel beckoned him in.

"You require something, my lord?" Sebastian said. "I thought you had already retired for the night. I could make you a late night snack as I am Master Lukas to help you sleep - "

"You will stop calling him that. I am your only master, do I make myself clear?"

Sebastian heard the jealousy in his master's voice, but repressed a smile. He bowed. "Indeed. So, if I am not to refer to your brother by his rightful title, what shall I - "

"Call him anything you'd like. But you belong to me. And don't you forget it."

Sebastian smirked. "Of course, sir. And albeit the same; you belong to me. Until the end."

* * *

With his master now asleep and after taking Lukas his warm milk and banana slices - these foods included a chemical that reacted with the human brain to better create a more relaxing feeling to help a human sleep - Sebastian retired to the Study, and here he indulged in a little gratuitous pass time, sitting on the couch reading a book by candlelight. He had his spectacles on.

Human novels were very interesting. It was said 'never judge a book by its cover', and that could be said about human's as well. A writer revealed himself more through his words than by his life alone. By just reading a novel, not only is a story told but also the life of the author told - dwelling on the 'inner soul' of the person who wrote it. Be them adventurous, charismatic, analytical or comedic.

The book he was reading was _Moby Dick_, and it was about a man who risked everything for revenge only to falter to his own ambitions. And he felt the book embodied Humanity succinctly, because no matter what humans attempted in their lives, in the end, they always faltered to their basic desires and ambitions.

Every last one. Just like his master, Ciel Phantomhive.

In the last couple of years, he could say that Ciel Phantomhive was the doomed protagonist in his own little story, much like Captain Ahab in _Moby Dick_. Like his own father, Vincent Phantomhive. Because through all of Vincent Phantomhive's conceitedness, scheming, and pontification of his invisibility as head of the Aristocrats of Evil, and as the Queen's loyal guard dog, he eventually lost out and ended up just another victim in his own little scornful world that begot no forgiveness to its many hapless creatures.

And now his son's had inherited the Phantomhive curse. They were the "Cornwall's" of Shakespeare's _King Lear_, and blind to what will eventually befall then. All Sebastian had to do was wait until they dug their own graves.

But he was no villain. How was one a villain when one only did what came natural? What one existed to do? Human literature was riddled with villains of every nature, mirroring life in every way, that it ironically seemed that there were no heroes at all. All humans were conceited and egocentric, and he had met countless who eventually willingly handed over their souls to fulfill their deepest desires.

The contract he had with Ciel Phantomhive was different. Instead of instant gratification by devouring the boy's soul, he opted to wait until all the darkness in Ciel's heart reached a fever pitch, then he would gorge on his soul's energy for eons. This is what made him obey his master's orders despite the insipid manner in which the boy treated him. But he knew, when the end finally came to cast off his butler guise, it would all be worth it. Lukas Phantomhive, as well. Thus lapping up every ounce of Phantomhive energy.

A knock came at the partially opened Study door. He thought it may be one of the other servants, seeing the light on, coming in to blow out the candle, but he was surprised, almost shocked, when Lukas opened the door the rest of the way, standing at the threshold in a long white, night shirt.

Sebastian straightened, then stood on his feet, closing the book. "Master Lukas," he said, ignoring Ciel's use of master in reference to his brother's rightful, household title. Besides, it was not an order. "You are up quite late, sir. May I be of any assistance to you? The warm milk and banana slices didn't work, I wager."

"My mind is stirring, especially about the events of the day, sleep does not come to me," Lukas said. "Don't _you_ sleep? It is the early hours of the night."

Sebastian smiled thin. "Occasionally, I do. But only in short intervals." Which was true. A demon did not need much rest, perhaps once every thousand years or so. "I am but a night owl."

"I would say a raven." Lukas smirked.

Sebastian knew the reference. The bird that hovered in the study in Edgar Allen Poe's rhymetic poem _The Raven_. The raven never slept; ever watchful, hovering above the chamber door of the protagonist's study, driving him mad, until the end. In the wild, the raven was also a predator to small rodents and wildlife.

Sebastian had suspected something different about Lukas Phantomhive ever since he arrived at the mansion, and from what he witnessed in the duel today, he knew there was much more to Lukas than the surface portrayed. Something had happened to the boy in the last seven years _after _he was kidnapped. The boy had amnesia, but perhaps that was just to protect something deeper. Someone's hidden agenda to use the boy at the time of their calling? Had he been trained for some insidious purpose? Had his brainwashing not been completed? Much like a medium can access the subconsciousness of a human mind and make a person do anything they wanted with the mere mention of a word of phrase, was Lukas programmed so?

"I'll be leaving in the morning," Lukas said.

Sebastian was suddenly snapped out of his reverie. "Pardon? Why?"

"It's obvious Ciel and I will never get along, and he's too accustomed in his ways now."

Sebastian could not let the boy leave. "Come, do not wallow in self-pity. In time, you and your brother will learn to live in harmony. But I do understand your thinking. You do not want the throne and yet the king sees you as a threat nonetheless."

"You do understand."

"I understand leaving will be foolish. Those who are after you will still seek you outside. Here, you will be safeguarded here from your enemies. The servants are much more than they appear."

Lukas nodded. "I saw, and I commend you for hiring them. But I did not escape one prison to find myself in another." He frowned. "I do not want to cause my brother anymore hardship."

"Nonsense. In time, your brother will come to love you. It takes time to form a relationship with anyone, especially with an estranged family member. You must be patient."

"Patience is a virtue, but my brother is - "

"Pompous? Arrogant? Rude? Obsequent?"

Lukas blinked. "All those things and more."

"Do not fret. For as long as I've known him, that has been his nature. He has been through a lot of turbulent trails since his, or I should say, your parents were murdered and he was taken and tortured, to be sacrificed by the Inner Circle for transgressions of an illicit nature that your parents supposedly forged towards them."

"Yes. He has never fully explained that to me. What in fact did happen that night that allowed him to survive? And for which all but a few members of the Inner Circle died that night?"

Sebastian opened his mouth to say something, thought against it. _The truth is not yours to know. _He said, "In time, you brother may explain it all to you. But I believe that is his story to tell, not mine."

"But you know the story, do you not?"

"I am merely a servant. Your brother keeps many secrets. As do you." Sebastian pointed at Lukas's head.

"Whatever secrets I have, I do not remember them."

"Therefore, much like your brother's story, in time, yours will unfold as well."

"You haven't been with my brother long, but I feel a kinship between you two, like some sort of unbreakable bond. You care for my brother. But, it's more than that, isn't it?"

Sebastian took a moment to think. "I love your brother's soul. He's been through so much."

Lukas nodded sympathetically.

Sebastian then placed a comforting hand on Lukas's left shoulder. "Your brother needs all the love we can provide to help him break through his seemingly unbreakable shell he has enclosed around himself, a shell he has forged against over the years from feeling true pain. We must try to release his pain, to make him grow stronger. And he will need you to rely on. I foresee a prosperous future for the Phantomhive family."

"Do you really think things will get better for my brother?"

Sebastian smiled. "Never more have I been sure of it."

**To be continued…**

* * *

_**Recommended reading:**_

_**Edgar Allen Poe's poem: "The Raven".**_

_**(…if you really want to understand the true meaning of the last line).**_


	18. Escape

**CHAPTER 17 - "ESCAPE"**

Grell Sutcliff flinched in pain as he received an electrical shock when he gently touched the stone wall on the upper tier surrounding the amphitheatre. It was carved with ancient spirit script and used to keep all death entities who enter in, or in the same manner, out.

He was all alone. Well, not entirely. He did have the six dead bodies on the floor, saturated in their own blood, murdered by the Fallen Reapers for their own agenda. But he knew they would not be much company. In fact, no company at all.

The Fallen Reapers had left the amphitheatre a little less than a day ago, leaving him to wallow in loneliness, knowing that he would spent eternality here without a soul or Reaper to talk to. Hence, the only companion he had was his own dark thoughts and that was some very bad company.

And worse, he would never again see his sweet, adorable Bassie! The thought almost brought him to tears.

He howled with rage and pity - at how he had let himself be trapped this way, and at the danger that was about to befall the Phantomhive's, because he could neither help them nor warn them of what was about to happen. They were about to be attacked by supernatural psychopaths who would stop at nothing short of bloody murder to obtain what they wanted.

The Fallen Reapers wanted information on how to restore their bodies taken from them by the Reaper elite because they had committed unspeakable crimes that were disgraceful to Reaper-kind, allowing their own ambitions to supersede their Reaper duties. And this information on _resurrection_ was supposedly stored deep within Lukas Phantomhive or Ciel Phantomhive's subconsciousness brain's, given to them or passed down by generations of chemical transmitters within their family history.

And their target was Lukas Phantomhive, because due to some heavy brainwashing by associates of Bryon Kelvin, an English philanthropist, his brain could very well be more easily accessible, susceptible to suggestion, if a certain code word or phrase was spoken, to lift the amnesia that the boy now suffered from - all the knowledge and everything he had experienced within the last seven years, separated from his family, kidnapped, trapped inside - to finally spew out and wash over him like a plague.

Lukas was programmed to kill his brother and usurp the family as it's only heir, to play his brother's part. But that was before the world knew of Lukas Phantomhive's existence and his story. Now the Fallen Reaper's still planned to use Lukas's programming, but for another purpose entirely. And there was absolutely no way for Grell to stop them.

This would also entail another failure on his part. He had been sent to collect the cinematic records of these dead men and take them back to the Hall of Records, but because of his entrapment he would not be able to do that. And he was surprised no one had come to check up on him after he missed his scheduled check-in.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he pouted. He was not looking forward to spending all of eternality here. More so, because the bodies below were starting to rot, their dead flesh seeping death odors. He would sit here and watch each body and its organs decay, leaving only bones, their blood evaporating, and over the centuries, their bones turn to dust, until nothing.

Well, he could always watch each cinematic record in real-time. That would waste a few centuries…

He heard a loud, echoing rapping fill the amphitheatre, like a knock on a door.

Grell looked around. He knew for a fact there were no _doors_ to speak of. The amphitheatre had stone archways with long stone corridors that were completely open to anyone who knew their winding pathways which lead to secret passageways and out into the real world.

"Boy, these spirit barriers are a real bugger," the voice of a young man said, his voice echoed the place. "Hey Grell, you in there? Or have you _fallen_ asleep?"

Grell sprung to his feet, sharply gazing around, as if to locate the voice. The dancing shadows of torchlight were the only things exhibiting anything that resembled any sort of entity. Then he realized who the voice belonged to, and could not believe _he_ would the one the Reapers would send to check-up on him. "Knox?" He was a brash, young Reaper with a bit of an over-active nature.

"In a pickle, anch'ya? Man, this spiritual barrier is a work of pure art. A beauty!"

"Get me outta here, Knox!" Grell demanded. "Stop admiring the décor!"

"Workin' on it. Some pretty, well-to-do dark magic here. Ancient. Tough to crack. When ya didn't come back as scheduled, Will sent me to bring ya back. He said, and I quote: 'What did that idiot get himself into now?' in his low, usual, brooding tone. That guy really needs to lighten up!"

Will was Grell's and other Reapers' superior. He oversaw all cinematic collection. Some said he was the ultimate subjugator for order and a real arse. His dress attire was perfect, not a black hair was out of place on his head, his spectacles were always clean and properly situated, and his deathscythe was a long staff with a snipper at the end that could cut anything. He took his job seriously.

"This is not my fault!" Grell said, fearing reprisal from Will. He was already on probation.

"We know. We caught a glimpse of the Fallen Reapers as they were fleeing the amphitheatre. Will wants a full debriefing."

"And he will have it, when I get outta here!"

"Settle down, I'm trying. It's difficult without a Triad. Those things are rare these days and apparently four have been absconded from the Treasury, we just found out. The rest are under lock and key now."

"The Fallen Reapers have them."

"How did they get them?"

"Sympathizers at the Academy."

"Ah, that would explain it. We suspected such for a while, but can't pin point who. However, we've been following these rogues for a while."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"Will: '_Need to know'_. You know him. And besides, we didn't know they would be here. Even without the spiritual barrier surrounding this place, there's something _wrong_ with this amphitheatre that prevents even Reapers to see into it from our realm."

"_Wrong_?"

"Explain later."

"I really hate Will, such a stickler for rules."

Knox laughed. "I agree."

There was a long pause when neither said anything. Then Grell spoke up. "What's taking so long?"

"Relax," Knox said. "There's a trick to these things. You have to find the key spell, much like a key stone in an arch. Eliminate it, and the whole thing comes crashing down."

Moments passed in silence again.

"Knox?"

"Hmm, this is a tough one…the key spell seems to be very well hidden. Whoever devised this spirit barrier never wanted it to be deactivated."

"Who do you think devised it?"

"Don't know, but I can tell you one thing: it was never activated. Reapers say this place is a gateway to Hell, perhaps that's why this script was carved into the walls. Someone might have wanted the gateway shut at one point. Or perhaps, something drawn out and kept here. _The Great Death_?" Knox wondered.

"Bassie?"

"Sebastian Michaelis," Knox corrected, "as Ciel Phantomhive calls _it_. I have a feeling that whatever transpired here that night two years ago - the night that was supposed to be Ciel Phantomhive's last - the Inner Circle were not only attempting to kill off the last of the Phantomhive's, but were conducting a sacrifice vicariously a seyance to summon a demon from the depths of Hell for them to control. Only it didn't work out that way, and _it_ murdered them all, striking a contract with the boy. Now it resides as Ciel Phantomhive's butler waiting patiently to devour his soul at _its_ convenience when its hunger becomes too ravenous to control."

More familiar was Sebastian's history than other Reaper's, Grell could confirm Knox's theory.

"There is something else," Knox said. "This place is evil, much like Stonehenge. Both have been used for sacrificial rituals in the past, and are gateways to the underworld. The good thing is Stonehenge was locked off centuries ago and the Druids killed off. The energy of this place, however, is so thick. It too needs to be locked off before something more powerful than Sebastian Michaelis comes through. Someone really knew what they were doing when they wrote these inscriptions, ancient as they are. All death entities must obey their spiritual affluence, unless they have a way around it."

"Like having a Triad."

"The Traid's were created for Reapers for just such occasions, because this planet has so many different spiritual energies, some so confounding that they may never be explained, and every day, Reapers are dispatched to push back dark forces that escape to this world, influencing some Reapers to even turn on our own, giving into their deepest desires - hence Fallen Reapers - for which humans are blissfully unaware. We Reapers are the human's only defense, and always the last thing they ever see when we collect their cinematic records."

Grell sighed, feeling momentarily sympathetic for humanity. "I know…"

"Ah, there we go..."

Grell suddenly heard the sound of what he could only describe as shattering glass, and almost instantly the heavy, thickening feeling he feel inside the amphitheatre dissolved when the spiritual barrier released its hold.

Knox pushed through the stone wall, like a ghostly apparition, into the torch lit amphitheatre, and put up a hand, smiling. "Hi."

Ronald Knox was a young Reaper with the equivalent appearance of a human male in his mid-twenties, but Knox was much older than that, at least two centuries older. An over-energetic Reaper, he was the kind of Reaper that charged into action and thought about the consequences later.

The embodiment of youth, Ronald Knox was all for the rules but not as strict for them as his superior Will. Knox had short, two-tone blond/black hair, was thin, wore the standard black rim Reaper glasses, and along with the standard Reaper uniform of black attire, he wore a loose-fitted tie, which was attenuative to a little rebellious streak in him. To many other Reapers, he was like a teenager and often acted like one.

"Been bored long?" Knox smirked.

"Any length of boredom is long," Grell said.

Knox came to stand next to Grell on the upper tier of the amphitheatre and looked down at the six dead bodies below. It looked like a pit of death.

"What goes around, comes around, I suppose." Knox looked around at the dancing shadows on the wall created by the torch light. "This place gives me the creeps."

Grell agreed. "This is a place of death, and I'm not just talking about the bodies down there. Mathu Kelvin, or the Fallen Reaper disguised as him, liked to talk."

"I knew that Reaper, well, but reputation anyway, before he fell. He was a brilliant Reaper. It was a shame when he, his wife and brother fell. Unfortunately, we Reapers are not immune to human-like desires like greed and ambition." Knox elbowed Grell. "Right pal?"

Grell nodded, his escapade as Madame Red's partner in the Jack the Ripper case came to mind.

"But this comes under the jurisdiction of Reaper justice affairs now," Knox said. "They're Fallen Reapers. They can handle them. We just collect cinematic records."

"But..."

"Orders, from the top."

"What if they kill someone?"

"Other than whom they already have? It's a human issue." Knox pointed at the dead men. "You've collected their cinematic records, right?" Grell nodded. "Then your task is over."

"But…I must save my sweet, lovable Bassie!" Grell declared.

"Grell, don't do anything stupid."

"Me? Never!"

Knox gave him a disbelieving stare. He sighed. "I know I'm going to regret this, but where you go - I go."

"I don't need a chaperone," Grell grumbled.

"No? Hey, Jack..." - referring to Grell's involvement in the human case of serial killer Jack the Reaper investigated by Scotland Yard, which because of its cover-up will never be solved - "I was told if you decide to get _crazy_and try something outlandish, like get caught up in another human affair, I'd have to accompany you, as a close observer."

Grell's shoulders slumped. "You mean to watch over me, like a mother hen, so I don't do anything stupid."

"Precisely," Knox said with a confident smile.

**To be continued…**


	19. SECRETS

**CHAPTER 18 - "SECRETS"**

Lukas lay in bed with his hands behind his head looking thoughtful at the ceiling. Something about the conversion he had with Sebastian bothered him.

Sebastian seemed genuinely sincere about safeguarding Lukas from his enemies, those who wanted to retrieve him and take him back to who-knows-where, but ever since Lukas had arrived at the mansion, about two weeks prior, something about the atmosphere here disturbed him.

There was a thick, almost suffocating feeling when Lukas was ever around Sebastian; a dark, cold, debilitating sensation that he could not explain, and it was strongest whenever Sebastian was nearest Ciel. Their relationship was much more than master and servant. However, he could not decide what.

In any regard, Sebastian was completely devoted to Ciel and would do anything to safeguard him at all costs. They had only been in association for a little more than two years, ever since Ciel's torturous ordeal with the Inner Circle, after his - _their_ - parents' murders, were they burned to death in the old mansion. But Lukas felt a much stronger bond between them.

It was late, and most of the household should be retired. All except Sebastian who would be still in the Study reading his book. So, he got up and dressed. Then collecting a bag of essentials, he crept down the hallway, and made his way to the kitchen in the lower levels of the mansion, and grabbed non-perishable foods and filled several small drinking flasks with water for a journey he prepared to take.

It was to be a journey that would safeguard his brother from any more burdensome trouble Lukas's enemies may cause him, despite the servant's reliability to defend the mansion. His enemies were still after him, and if he wasn't here, then _they_ would leave his brother alone.

And besides, his brother didn't need him. Ciel was so self-assured that to stay would only drive him deeper into the shell his brother had encased himself in, burying the pain within. Lukas was a constant reminder of all that pain. Over time Ciel's pain will subside, but it was best to let sleeping dogs lie. Remove the salt that keeps the wound open, and the psychological scars will heal.

Lukas wanted answers, and he knew he would not find any here. The name Phantomhive was all he had, but it wasn't enough. He had to, as they say, do some "soul searching" to find himself, and hopefully in time his own psychological pain will subside, the pain of forgetting everything who he was; his entire past life. He was a child when he was taken from his family, and all he had were vague images Ciel and Tanaka had provided for him, about what his life was before Bryon Kelvin stole him.

_You sadistic bastard! If I find you, I'll kill you for what you did to me! So I hope you're still alive!_

He was still a child, but one with wisdom beyond his years much like his brother, and he had to play detective to get the answers he sought. And didn't know how long that would take. Scotland Yard had been on the missing children case for years without a considerable lead, so he could not depend on them.

As he departed the mansion, he took one of his father's pistols that had used in the duel the other day, loaded it, and stuffed it in his belt, behind his back. One shot was all he needed to kill Bryon Kelvin, if he was still alive. But he brought an extra bag of ground powder and lead balls if needed. The pistol could only fire once before having to be reloaded. He could also use it as protection against any seedy characters.

There were other weapons he could take, but a pistol was all he needed.

He recalled Bardroy, the cook, who used a rotating machine gun to defend the mansion. This, plus a rifle, used repeated cartridges, so it could fire consecutively, sometimes up to two to three shoots at a time. Then there was Mey-Rin, the maid, who had specialized hand guns that could fire six shots. And finally Finny, the gardener who needed no weapons, he was massively strong and could throw large objects at his enemies. This in itself a deep mystery. How did such a thin young man come to have such superhuman strength? But, Lukas didn't dwell on it.

He left the mansion, and with only a lantern as light, he walked the countryside roads, until he reached London. The trip took him about an hour and a half walk. By carriage, about half that time. He had thought about taking a horse, but then decided it would take too long to put the saddle over the back of the animal, and the horse might make too much noise and wake up the servants, which would ruin his leaving. Walking was easier.

The weather was chilled as he walked the dark streets of London with only dimly lit street overhead lights to guide his way through the cobblestone walkways, he had extinguished his lantern to save oil, and almost stepped in a pile of horse manure some sweeper forgot to clean, side-stepping quickly away from it.

Pubs were still active this late at night, and so were the prostitutes. Some of them, in his opinion, were very nice looking. And they no longer had to worry about Jack the Ripper. Scotland Yard reported that they had caught the culprit who was hunting prostitutes and murdering them in ghastly ways. Although, the man - Severin Klosowskim, albeit him an immigrant from Poland who had arrived only a year prior in 1887 and was trained as a junior surgeon - was merely a suspect. However, since his capture, the killings had stopped. But there was no conclusive evidence that he was Jack the Ripper. Jack the Ripper knew his way with a carving knife, much like a medical student or a trained professional, who had a great deal of knowledge of human anatomy; this man did not. Although, like many others, he was brought in for questioning. In the meantime, the sex trade was booming again, and men of all walks of life, young and old, were paying young women to get their jollies off. For a few coins, the women sold their wombs.

Lukas could only imagine if one of them got pregnant. Would they murder the fetus just to continue their trade of seducing men for money? Probably so. Ciel had a theory that Jack the Ripper was killing these prostitutes for just such a reason, because they detested being pregnant. They couldn't afford to raise children, so they paid for abortions, and continued their sex trade.

And there was no true legislative to stop them. Oh, (English) Bobbies patrolled the streets offering protection from assailants who didn't want to pay and assaulted the sex workers, but from what he saw, and in what he was witnessing now, they also engaged in sex with these prostitutes for money.

And he watched one screwing a prostitute in a back alley, peaking around the corner of a building near a pub called the _Jolly Rodger_, where a lot of prostitutes hung out. Drunk men were a prime target for these sex workers. It was said that prostitution was the oldest profession, beginning on the isle of Lesbos, in ancient Greece, centuries earlier. At first, the island only welcomed women, but then men were soon accepted, and visitors would pay for the company of a woman…as they do today.

A hand clasped his left shoulder and he jumped around started. He came face-to-face with one of these sex trade workers, a beautiful woman even from his young perspective. She had a beautiful, thin body, and long, flowing blonde hair. She looked around the corner and saw the same thing he had. Then turned back, and smiled, "You're a bit young, aint you, sweetie? Why are you out at this late of the night?"

He cleared his throat to get his voice. "I-I was lost," he lied. "I heard a noise and saw them in the alley."

"Well, best leave them be, sweetie. Maybe in six or seven more years, you might - "

"Elise!" The woman looked up and Lukas turned around sharply to see a seedy looking man approaching them. "Get back to work, and stop ye gabbing with this kid," he said, grabbing her arm. He pushed Lukas to the street. "Beat it, kid! Go beat ye-self off sum where. She's too old for ye."

"Harold, he was lost," Elise said. "I was only asking him if I could help - "

"He can find his own way."

Lukas got to his feet, dusted himself off. "You shouldn't treat women like objects," he said, his eyes like daggers. "Women deserve respect. And I was not soliciting her for favors, not like that policeman in the alley. How disrespectful for an officer of the law. They are to help people, not engage is deplorable acts!" He gasped, realizing he had just insulted Elsie. He looked at her with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry…"

"It's all right, sweetie. I agree. If I could avoid it - "

"Enough your gabbing, get back to work!" Harold demanded.

Lukas gazed at Harold hatefully. His face and hair were greasy and his beard was unkempt. He wore a long dirty coat. Lukas surmised him up immediately a pimp, peddling his wears, namely women, then taking half their earnings, for his services.

Apparently how Lukas was looking at him offended Harold and he struck Lukas across the face with the back of a hand, knocking him back down. Lukas bled from the side of his mouth. Harold then grabbed Elsie and dragged her away.

Lukas wanted more than anything than to take out his pistol and kill Harold, but the piece of slime wasn't worth it, and it would only create unwanted commotion he didn't need. He wiped his face, looked at his hand and saw blood, then felt the side of his face as it grew sensitive to touch. He knew he would eventually have a bruise., but he wasn't worried.

He had landed in the street looking opposite into the alley where the Bobby and the prostitute were having sex. The police man stopped for a moment to look at him from inside the alley, and Lukas looked at him, but that was it, and the Bobby went on with screwing the prostitute hard and heavy, their moans echoing loudly.

Lukas got to his feet again, and continued on his way.

He hauled his pack filled with his necessities over his shoulder as he walked away from the pub, their rambunctious hollerings and laughter filling the night with drunken sordidness. He came to the front window display of a toy store along the way where he saw countless stuff animals, most of which had come from _Fantom Co_., his brother's toy factories. He never had any toys when growing up he recalled, although he did remember his _father_ or the lair whom he had called father for seven years, did once give him a toy train. It was not painted, but it was fully built. He said he had acquired it from a friend, and it was a one-of-a-kind toy. He had been given the toy about seven years ago, and told it was a proto-type for a train that was now in mass production with _Fantom Co_.

His _father_ never said who his friend who, but only that he was a wealthy, philanthropist like himself with a young boy his age.

Lukas put his hands to his head in pain as memories filled his mind. They were a jumbled assortment of people, places and things, and he dropped to his knees in front of the toy store, gritting his teeth, trying to think of something else, to stop these memories from coming to him so fast and so chaotically.

He remembered a man in surgical garb looking down at him, as he was strapped to a medical table for yet another of an unknown amount of times. This man had been working on his face, to change it; to change it to look like his brother Ciel, _the Doctor _as he had been known to be called. Lukas's face was wrapped in bandages, but he could move his head, and he could see another man sitting in a wheelchair to his right, with himself wrapped in bandages from head to toe.

"_Once he is complete, doctor, he will be a work of true beauty,"_ the bandaged, wheelchair man said. "_He will be the ultimate assassin, traveling the world to bring upon my new world order with all my other children. And when the Inner Circle has fulfilled their end of the bargain, we'll leave no loose ends. My nephew will see to it._" The man wheeled himself over. Lukas looked upon him with horror, but his mouth was bound so he could not speak. "_Once your brainwashing is complete, my dear boy, albeit it might take some time, we should go to the circus and plan for the future, and the demise of your dear - _"

Lukas started, and jumped, rolled to the side, as someone touched his right shoulder. He turned around front, put his hands out in front of him, and crouched in a defensive posture. His breathing was heavy and he was sweating despite the coldness of the night.

The memory flash he was just experiencing was like a foggy nightmare, and he couldn't quite keep it fresh in his mind. Tears rolled down his cheeks from the pain in his head, but he could not decipher anything clearly. Lukas looked up at who had started him and saw a tall gentleman in a long dark trench-coat and a top head. His face was obscured by shadows.

"Help me…" Lukas said without thinking, looking through teary-eyes.

"Young man, the streets of London are no place for a pup such as yourself," he man said, in a crackity voice. He stepped into the light of an near by overhead street light, and Lukas gasped shocked. The man had a wicked looking face with a hideous scar across it, with long white hair. His attire was that of an undertaker, a person who prepared the recently deceased for the afterlife.

The man put a gentle hand on Lukas's forehead, and for however reason the pain in his head, which felt like an intense migraine, began to quickly subside.

A sudden thought of the man being Jack the Ripper came to mind because he looked the type, because he knew the real Ripper was never caught. But Lukas pushed it away, feeling no evil here, despite the man having long, razor sharp nails that could slice open skin with a single swipe.

The man offered his hand, and Lukas took it, standing up.

"Forgive me, my lord. I hope I did not frighten you? Young Lukas Phantomhive…why are you out in the streets of London alone?" He offered a white handkerchief, and Lukas wiped his eyes and blew his nose. The man put up a hand. "Keep it." Lukas tucked it into a pants pocket.

"What did you do?" Lukas breathed easier, his migraine gone. He sniffed, smelling something like sulfur in the air.

The man turned his hand over that he had placed on Lukas's forehead, and it was a little moist. "I have embalming fluid on my hands, only a little. It's used to preserve a dead body. It also has medicinal properties that not may people are aware of, like soothing headaches. Some even drink it like tonic." He chuckled. "But drink enough of it, and your organs become numb, and you die within minutes."

"I'll make sure not to drink it. I appreciate your kindness." Lukas rubbed his forehead and smelled his hand. He had the smell of death on it. "I seem to be at a disadvantage, sir. You appear to know me, but I do not know you. No, forgive my ignorance. The newspaper article over a week ago that my brother wrote of my return to the Phantomhive family was telling to all of London."

"Only those who can read, my lord, but I did read the article, and what a lovely bunch of creative writing," the man said. "You wish to know my name? I have many names, but most people call me the Undertaker."

"Because of your profession, no doubt."

"Indeed." The Undertaker extended an arm down the street. "Please, let us adjourn to my parlor and off the streets; there is a chill in the air, and you might catch your death."

_Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly_, Lukas recalled the poem by some obscure writer.

He kept the pistol he had tucked into his belt behind his back at arms reach, just in case there was trouble with this man. In this day and age, London was a dangerous place filled with thieves and pedophiles. You never knew the perversity of some people.

And yet, he felt no, perse, evil from this individual, and his instincts were never wrong.

He accepted the man's hospitality and followed the Undertaker to his shop.

Inside, Lukas was immediately greeted with a showroom of coffins. They were on tables, the floor, standing against walls, and with candlelight casting shadows on the wall like dancing demons, by all appearances, everything exhibited a dark and sinister atmosphere. But strangely, he felt no fear from this place. In fact, it was curiously familiar. But he knew he had never been to this shop before.

The Undertaker went to the back, then returned with a mug of hot chocolate. Lukas took a seat on a stool next to a tabled coffin and sipped it when given. The warmth of the drink filled his insides with life removing the chill of death in his bones from staying outside for so long.

The brick fireplace in the corner was stoked with a iron poker by his host adding even more warmth to the room. The flames licked higher engulfing the wood logs in its pit. The Undertaker came to stand next to his workshop table, standing next to a coffin on the floor.

"Feeling better?"

Lukas nodded. "Thank you."

The Undertaker picked up a small scalpel from the table and caressed its metallic handle, gazing at it, as if to admire its craftsmanship. "So, my lord. What brings you to wander the streets of London alone, tonight? It is dangerous for young Earl's to be unaccompanied, especially if they are wanted."

Momentarily, Lukas didn't understand the Undertaker's remark, but then recalled the newspaper article. "Oh yes, certain people are still after me. But I can take care of myself." The Undertaker chuckled as if amused, but Lukas paid mind to it. "I am out, hunting for answers," he said.

"Ah, aren't we all. It is said that a man can wander the world hunting for answers all his life and find nothing, and yet a man who asks questions can live a rewarding one."

Lukas sipped his mug. "True, but finding a knowledgeable person in of itself can take a lifetime, and even so, answers are not always forthcoming," he said philosophically. "And asking a correct question can be equally tasking."

The Undertaker grinned. "It's hard to ask anything of anyone if one is afraid of disappointment, and reliability of the information received is also an issue. Lairs and villains are everything, to prey on the vulnerable. I am no acceptation."

Lukas eyed the Undertaker over the edge of the steaming mug. "Are you a villain?" He knew it was a child's question, but he wanted to test the man's reaction.

The Undertaker looked at Lukas, but did not seem to take offense by it. "I have been called many things, known for many more, and trust me when I say I am no hero either."

"Forgive my straight-forwardness," Lukas said, settling the mug in his lap. "I like to ask questions of a person's character before I dwell into answers I truly seek, to sum up whether they can be trusted."

"A wise thing to do." The Undertaker put the scalpel down and came to stand next to the tabled coffin, closer to Lukas. "I knew your father," he said, appearing to change the subject. "He was a kind man, always enjoyed helping other's less fortunate."

"I heard that of him, among other things."

"Such as?"

"That he headed a secret sect of people indebted to aiding in the liberation of moral people from evil. It was called the Aristocrats of Justice, or as far as I am told. My father's butler, Tanaka, said such. But I suspect the opposite, as the Phantomhive's were known as _the lords of the underworld_."

The Undertaker seemed to ponder a moment, rubbing his chin. "Ah yes, Tanaka. The elder butler. And what _else_ did he tell you?"

"That a group of malicious men called the Inner Circle hunted them all down after my father and mother were killed, their bodies burned in the fire that took the Phantomhive mansion some two years ago."

"Go on."

"I don't know any more than that, other than what Ciel has told me. But, I suspect more to the story."

"Indeed, young Phantomhive. There is a great deal more to _this_ story. I can say for certain that at least one member of this sect of your father's did survive. I was a member. And it was Bryon Kelvin, an outcast, who nicknamed us the 'Aristocrats of Evil', not the other name, for the order we tried to impose on London."

"I have heard that name before," Lukas said, sipping his mug, but not saying anything more. He wanted to know what the Undertaker knew before revealing what he did. "And I also hear rumors he is dead."

"A man can die a thousand times in his lifetime and it only takes one act of cowardice to bring it to fruition. Bryon Kelvin was a coward, through and through."

"He and his cohorts kidnapped those children, did they not?"

The Undertaker nodded. "He is a sick and twisted person. And the 'Aristocrats of Evil' were apposed to stopping him. But his political ties were strong, and through the flow of money, he was able to undermine your father, and…"

"So it was Bryon Kelvin who murdered my parents?"

The Undertaken shrugged. "I don't know who murdered them, directly. What I do know is that he brainwashed those sweet kidnapped children to do his bidding at the cost of their own lives."

Lukas looked melancholy. "Yes, I heard a story of that nature, as well. When my father and mother, acting on the Queen's orders, attempted to intercept Bryon at a warehouse. It was here they first met up with brainwashed children, and the twins Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt, who demonstrated their unfathomable hold on the children's minds, had one of them commit a horrendous act right in front of them. The boy who killed himself was the son of the Magistrate, who later offered a reward for the twin's capture. A week prior today, the twins attacked the Phantomhive mansion attempting to retrieve me, as I have been the only one of the children to apparently flee from their hold. I have amnesia of the last seven years, but I have demonstrated specialized skills that could only be trained to me, for which I instinctively remember."

"The mind is a funny thing, it can remember a lot, even when we don't," the Undertaker said. "And with help, it can be coaxed to the surface."

"I agree." Lukas sipped his mug, and gazed at the Undertaker with a firm stare. "So, then, Undertaker, perhaps you _are_ the man I seek answers from to the questions I have? But tell me, why did the Inner Circle not come after you?"

"I offered them clemency. I knew things about them and their families and would expose them in an instant, destroying them, if they attempted anything against me. Hence, they left me alone. Albeit, they did try a few times, secretly, but all were futile. Eventually, they stopped, knowing I knew how to keep a secret."

Lukas nodded. "Well, I am in need of knowing certain secrets right now," he said. "Tell me what I want to know, Undertaker. Everything."

The Undertaker grinned. "That may take some time, my lord. I know so much."

**To be continued…**


	20. INTERLUDE DEUX

_**CHAPTER 19 - "INTERLUDE DEUX"**_

_**July 16**__**th**__**, 1645 **_

The Brazilian rainforest was a vast and dangerous unknown region in the eastern hemisphere of the South American continent. It was said that even the devil was afraid to step foot here for fear of being devoured by its ferocious and uncaring nature. The temperature was sweltering despite this time of year. It was the rainy season, but it felt like they were walking in the very depths of Hell, as if this forest and the Sahara Desert, in Africa, were having a silent competition on which one of them could be the hottest.

Miles carried the bags of an explorer. He was sixteen and had been in trouble all his life with the law. No matter how hard he tried, nothing he did turned out right. All he needed was capital to establish a well deserving life, but no one wanted to hire a trouble-maker and he was well known.

But when calls went out for an expedition to Brazil, he welcomed the chance to earn some money, and to leave his own, worthless life behind.

Monsieur Jean-Baptiste Tavernier, a well-known French explorer, had called for open invitations to voyage with him to Brazil, to find a new blue diamond that was said to bring fame and fortune to whoever possessed it. Tavernier had learned about this legend from an Indian monk who possessed a stunning blue, uncut gem, that sparked like the waters as seen from the shores of France of its open basin. Many had attended the open invitation, but only one had been accepted - Miles - along with Tavernier's team of explorers, when he explained where they were going. Miles welcomed the long journey.

The months of ocean travel was sometimes merciless, and a vicious storm rocked their ship, sending several sailors overboard into the depths of the Atlantic on their way westerly to South America. This continent had been discovered by another explorer, later known as Spain only 150 years earlier. Due to Christopher Columbus' oceanic voyage, it opened up a multitude of venues for colonization to the Americas by an over populated England, and also exploration and expedition within their many hidden facets, including the vast unknown region known of Brazil, where dangerous creatures were said to exist.

Miles was strong in body and mind and was excited to join this expedition. He was fluent in many languages, and was a great linguistic, which was one of the reasons he was chosen. With only a few phrases, he could pick up almost any language and their syntax and speak it back. They had a Brazilian native who was their guide on their journey, who cut through the thick foliage with a well sharpened blade, that looked exceptionally forged by a master craftsman. Miles had no idea that such a primitive race had such advanced use of metal forgery. After weeks of travel, he had learned a great deal more about this native's people and philosophies.

When they rested after a day's travel through the flora and fauna of the rainforest to their destination of a cave in a mountain where the blue diamonds were suppose to exist, he conversed with the guide about his tribal history and religious beliefs. And he was learning so much.

It was late in the evening, and the sun was beginning to set over the horizon, casting darkness within the jungle. They set up camp for the night and built several fires to keep the nocturnal animals away. Most of the team sat around the larger, centre fire, Miles preferred to sit alone.

The team spoke mostly French, and very little English, which was Miles' native language, being born and raised in England. But he was less interested in their conversions than speaking with Natuk, their Brazilian guide, a thin-built, young man, a little older than Miles. Natuk was brown skinned and for a primitive tribesman was very versed with the world around him. And he was also very interested in astrology.

Natuk enjoyed to gaze up at the night sky. Together, they lay on the ground on blankets next to a small fire, and looked upward. Astrology was a relatively new science in Miles' part of the world, but Natuk seemed to know a lot about constellations and planetary rotations. "And Gaia moves around the Sun," he said in his native language Portuguese. "We are all Her children," he went on, "to live, to die, and to be resurrected."

"Very profound," Miles replied. "Our science teaches us the Sun moves around Earth, or Gaia. That we, Humanity, are the centre of the universe, and nothing else existences."

"That is where your _science_ is wrong, my friend. There are many energies in Gaia's realm that we will never understand, but to her, they are necessary. Our religion teaches us that we are but insects in the overall world and that we must respect it or it will crush us underfoot."

Miles laughed. "We have a similar notation of that, it's called our politicks."

"_Politicks_? What is this?"

"A name for rules we live by, governed by a few who believe they have the people's interests at heart. King Charles of England, my king, is a very strict and selfish man. A young man who enjoys conflict and who rules with absolutism. By his decree, I was to be sent into battle because I am a trouble maker at home, known to many; my family fought his decree and lost. With help from my father, I fled and joined this expedition with Monsieur Tavernier, who does not know the real reason for my being here. As I have an uncanny ability for picking up different languages, I was welcomed immediately. That's why I was about to speak with your tribe and acquire a guide to this mountain. Monsieur Tavernier was impressed."

"A warrior can test himself in battle, fleeing is cowardly."

Miles nodded. "King Charles is an immoral man like his father King James before him. It is treason to say, but I hope he is dethroned and a more principled king ascends. I felt that the war my king is fighting is undeserving within his own nation against those who only wish equality. Many men will die for his iron rules of absolutism. I could not in good conscious fight a war that in my heart knew was wrong."

"Then you are not a coward. To flee from immorality is a noble deed. But won't they learn of this desertion? You will be trailed and hung."

Miles looked over at Natuk. "You are very knowledge. To whom have you been speaking to about our rights and laws?"

"There is a Spanish colony my people trade with. As I am very curious, I spend hours talking with colonists about their nation. They are very telling. There are also other people from your native land, England, who have also escaped your king's immoral Civil War in this colony. At first, they were not inviting, but those were mainly the soldiers. In time, we developed a kinship and are on good terms."

"But there is disease that affects your people?" Miles said.

"Yes, and it only started to emerge when..."

"The Spaniards came," Miles finished. Both remained silent for a little while and gazed peacefully up at the stars. It was a difficult subject. There was no cure for the disease that was running through Natuk's tribal village and those around it. Miles changed the subject, pointing to the open night sky. "In ancient Greek mythology records, that constellation is known as the Belt of Orien or The Hunter. See those three bright stars in a row? He was a great hunter who killed ferocious animals bare-handed."

"Las Tres Marías," Natuk said. "That is what the Spaniards call them. Three wise women."

Miles was impressed. "Indeed, they are also called _the three Mary's_," he said. "Mostly, they're called _the three kings_. Which refer to Christian mythology, of the three wise men who crossed _the desert _to see the child of Israel, giving gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh."

"What is myrrh?"

Miles thought for a moment. "I do not know exactly, some sort of tree. But apparently it is very precious."

"A tree of life for a child who is just starting his journey," Natuk said. "Tender to live, incense to breath, and a tree, a symbolic gift of growth. They were wish men."

Miles nodded. "I never thought of it that way before. Indeed they were wise as the biblical tale tells."

"Do you believe in fate, my friend?"

The question struck him as odd. "No, I believe a man makes his own. I do not believe life is pre-destined. It is controlled by a person. Why?"

"Before our journey, my grandfather told me he had a vision of a man who rose to become a leader of many men. Not a warrior, but he was very powerful in a city as tall as giants. He did not recognize this man, but he wore clothes fashioned like your royalty. He said he did not favor this man and neither did the gods. He also saw two children - one the man basked in riches, the other he cast away because he had a disease."

Miles didn't know what to say. "And when is this vision suppose to come to pass?"

"Long after we have both turned to dust and our spirits have joined the stars with the gods," Natuk said. "But my grandfather did say your spirit will know him, but _you_ will not."

"_My spirit will know him, but I will not?_ This happens in the future and I will be dead, but I will still know this man of power?"

"Like all creatures, the cycle of life is forever. Life is about rebirth. Creatures eat other creatures to survive, children are born, and they then become father's and die. But the spirit remains on, carried, building knowledge from its birth. The spirit never dies."

"That is taught in other cultures as well. My father also believes in reincarnation, the circle of life, where even after a person dies, as along as the line of a family continues, the knowledge of the past will carry on to future generations, even if they do not remember it. He calls the human brain a box of wealth that can never be filled. But things can be forgotten. That is why stories are told to remember our fathers and mothers, to future generations so at least some of our past will never be erased."

"Your father is very wise."

"I am an only child. I came on this journey so I could continue the family line and obtain wealth, so my family can live properly. If I was sent to war, I would surely die."

"The rare blue gems that we seek are wealthy beyond any riches imaginable, and will enrich your life."

"How do you know?"

"Because they were created by the gods. And if they were created by the gods, they are blessed."

"Monsieur Tavernier saw the one your grandfather had and wanted to know where to search for his own. He wants to present them to King Louis XIV as a gift, and he has promised all of us great wealth if we do."

"Is wealth what you seek, Miles?"

Miles shook his head. "I seek to live. And if I can obtain even one of these diamonds, I can enrich my family to that of providence, so King Charles will have to respect us in high society. You see, in my nation, if you have wealth, you have power and influence. King Charles can not touch us then."

"With all things comes a price, my friend. Are you willing to accept that consequence?"

"Yes," Miles said flatly. "I hope to find a blue diamond and save my family legacy."

"Then I wish us luck in our journey, ghost of hive?" Natuk said.

"My last name is Phantomhive, but just call me Miles," he said.

* * *

_**July 3**__**rd**__**, 1668**_

Miles Phantomhive reflected. His life had changed dramatically in the last thirteen years.

On his journey with Monsieur Jean-Baptiste Tavernier through the Brazilian rainforest, he had not found the rare blue diamond with the explorer team, but they did find a mountain littered with uncut goldstone.

In the last thirteen years since, he used his new found wealth to build up the name Phantomhive to prominent proportions in English society. He even had a son that he named Tristan.

In another expedition to Brazil, however, Monsieur Jean-Baptiste Tavernier with a new team, did find what he originally sought and presented about 1,000 pieces of this precious gem to King Louis the XVI of France.

Miles had been disappointed that that he had not found them himself years before, because if he had, he could have helped buy medicine for his Portuguese guide Natuk and his village, who were plagued with disease, brought to South America by the Spaniards. The villagers had no defense from the "white men" disease, and sadly, even his friend Natuk died by the new diseases the new colonists brought.

He often looked up at the stars in the back courtyard of the large house he built with his new wealth in a secluded area of the English countryside and thought of Natuk. They had not known each other for long, perhaps a year during their journey together in that rainforest, but the young guide had made a profound impression on him. One that he would never forget.

During the past thirteen years, he had made various connections in high society with his father's help, and in this time, King Charles had been dethroned and beheaded for his unruly and traitorous actions against England, and his son was crowded. Charles II was a well-around established gentleman who cared for the people he ruled, unlike his father. And Miles was thankful.

Also in this time, Miles married a lovely woman at 22, and after a year, they had Tristan. Tristan was now seven, and seemed to have a great deal of interest in astrology. Miles even bought Tristan a small hand-held _perspicillum - _most people called it a _telescope_, because it used glass lens to reflect the night sky to bring the stars closer. Miles recalled a Greek mathematician named Galileo invented it and patented it to present it to the public long before Miles was born. But it was expensive, only the rich could buy one. Miles' scoffed at the price with his new wealth; he could more than afford to buy one for his son.

"Orien's belt, father," Tristan said excitedly, as he gazed at the night sky through the telescope, pointing.

Miles smiled, rubbing his close-cropped beard. "Very good, son. Now, thinking back to your studies, can you tell me why certain cultures call them _the three Mary's_?" He purposely did not say _the three kings_, as that would be too easy for his smart boy, home schooled. Along with math, reading and writing, he also wanted to teach his son in depth knowledge of the Bible. It thought a well-rounded education was essential.

Tristan didn't say anything at first. "Um," he muttered, looking up from the telescope. Miles saw the boy's forehead scrunch up and his eyes narrow, thinking. He gave his son some time. Then after a minute, the boy turned, and said, "Mary, mother of Jesus."

"That's one. Go on."

"Mary Magdalene, Jesus' most trusted women disciple. She was at the crucifixion, and Jesus' burial, and according to the gospels of John and Mark, was also at Jesus' resurrection at his tomb."

Miles smiled. "And the third?"

But this one seemed to have Tristan stumped, and it was a few minutes, thinking very hard, his mouth muttering under his breath of possible people in the Bible, before he slumped his shoulders and shook his head, uncertain. "I don't remember, father. I'm sorry."

"That's all right, son. She is mentioned in the gospel of John, but she is not as well known as the others. She is Mary, the wife of Clopas, who was a saint."

Tristan nodded, still unsure. "The belt is also known as the three kings," he then said with a confident smile, as if returning back to something familiar. "That's easier to remember or Orien's Belt."

"Very true, son. But often we neglect certain history because of its complexities. That is why learning even difficult history is important, so we will never forget our _true_ past. And much like this telescope and how it draws the stars in the night sky closer for us to see, so can history draws us closer to our own past, so we can learn from it. Our minds hold a vast amount of knowledge, only those capable of it, can access it all."

* * *

_**December 24**__**th**__**, 1792 **_

In France, the _French Revolutionary Wars _were in a high Voltaire upset, and people were dying by the thousands against a regime of total absolutism, according to the London Times. But Edward Lukas Phantomhive cared nothing for this. What stayed in France, was not welcome in the British Commonwealth, the pride of the civilized world, and he threw the newspaper he just finished reading into the fireplace next to him, where it burned like the filthy dogs it wrote about.

He sat in a high chair in his study, and it that faced a long, buttress arched window, overlooking the surrounding countryside which was covered in snow. A light snow fell and it reminded him of the stories his great-grandfather used to tell him when he was a kid of it being "angel-dust" when Angel wings molted, falling off, and dropping like snow into the wintery seasons, as they flew through the clouds.

His great-grandfather was a very religious man and he believed having faith in God was equally important as having faith in oneself. He also believed that the fate of a man is never pre-destined, and that despite religion, Man was essentially the master of his _own_ domain and not some unseen god-like figure.

And Edward Lukas Phantomhive believed that whole-heartedly. The sway of the Phantomhive family in many political, social and economic circles started with a lucky goldstone find by an ancestor who struck it rich looking for wealth and riches in the Brazilian rainforest. Family history passed down tells that Miles Phantomhive, a well-renown philanthropist and doctor later in life, at sixteen went in search with a French explorer for a rare blue gem said to be buried in the mountains of Peru. While he didn't find what he sought, he came back with riches beyond anything he could have imagined, which started the rise of the house of Phantomhive. The Phantomhive family was a prominent staunch in England, and if you were a Phantomhive, you had respect. The Phantomhive's were one of the richest family's in the British Commonwealth, and they only continued to grow in power and wealth with future generations.

Edward was almost at the end of his life, but he had had a good long one. His wife had died more than twenty years earlier, and he still loved her very much. But as for the rest of his family, he hated each with a passion that only the devil himself would feel.

He had six children, all boys, then three grandchildren and further, eight great-grandchildren. The regrettable thing was, none of them ever visited him. With power came a price, and every Phantomhive, as they believed they were better than everyone else, were all equally arrogant. Once they were finished with something, they threw it away like garbage.

Edward felt this way. But he knew there was still hope. Well, vengeance anyway.

A knock came at the study door, and his butler entered. "Sir, a Mister Franco Tavernier, to see you."

Edward turned to the door, and stood on his feet slowly. He was not a young man anymore, but in his heart, the hatred he felt for his own family was enough to fill his flesh and bones with all the energy he needed.

A young man stood at the doorway, he couldn't be more than in his mid-twenties. "That will be all, Grieves," Edward said gruffly. The butler left, leaving them alone. "Do you have it?"

Franco Tavernier reached into his trouser pocket and brought out a handkerchief. He unwrapped it, and inside was a sizable blue gem stone. Edward spread his arms out wide and smiled. It was known as the _French Blue_, the same blue diamond, along with others, given to King Louis XIV by Jean-Baptiste Tavernier, this man's great ancestor, who originally found it during an expedition to Brazil. It had been cut to fit jewelry, but through-out its introduction to French royalty and society, it had brought a curse to all those who possessed it. He had spared great expense to have it stolen out of France during the revolutionary wars while the nation was in utter chaos, and who better to do so, than an ancestor of the great explorer who found it. It was irony. Miles Phantomhive went in search of it and never found it, but over a hundred years later, it would eventually find its way into the hands of his ancestors.

In Miles Phantomhive's journals, he wrote of a Portuguese guide named Natuk, who once told him the blue gems were blessed. They were blessed because they were created by the gods. But if they were taken without giving something in return, the possessor would be cursed and damned, as with everything, to get something you must give some of equal exchange for balance. It was obvious, that didn't happen. And Edward was counting on this curse for his vengeance. He had given everything to his family, only for them to toss him away. When he was a child, family meant everything to him. The Phantomhive's were cursed in their own rite, arrogant and selfish with power, and he wished them all damned to Hades.

Tavernier gave the _French Blue _to Edward and was paid. Once Tavernier left, Edward looked at the gem, drinking in its power. He would cut it, and leave each a small piece to his great-grandchildren. With the curse, he hoped they all would die a terrible and insufferable death, thus ending the Phantomhive line.

* * *

_**February 17**__**th**__**, 1855**_

"Vincent?"

Vincent Phantomhive looked up from his English literature book to answer the summons by his grandfather. He was in the study, reading over books and study notes for an examination he was to have a school tomorrow.

It was late in the evening, and the sun had gone down, but he was adamant about his studies, wanting to be a doctor or a lawyer, studying under soft light by a desk lamp.

He didn't care about his family's money. The Phantomhive's were wealthy, but he wanted to help people. That's all he wanted to do, and his father encouraged him to be whom he wanted. His grandfather agreed; money didn't make the man, respect did, and Henry Jamerson Phantomhive was a very well respected man about England, as was Vincent's father, Charles Lukas Phantomhive.

His grandfather entered the study, and Vincent smiled. He loved his grandfather. His grandfather was in his mid-seventies, which was old even in today's lifespan. Many people didn't live pass sixty because of disease or destitution. But because the Phantomhive's could afford the best medical care in all of England, he was living a long life. And his grandfather was as ever as vital as a man twice his younger.

Vincent stood in respect of his grandfather. It wasn't proper to sit in the presence of a respected elder. With a sturdy handshake, which was the gentlemanly thing to do to welcome someone, he clasped the strong hand of his grandfather, then they both sat down. Vincent in his desk chair, and his grandfather in a tall back chair next to the open fireplace, which faced one another.

"Grandfather, I am very pleased to see you," Vincent said, sitting up straight. To hunch one's shoulders was a sign of weakness and ill-confidence. "I have so much to tell you."

His grandfather smiled. "Your father has been telling me how proud he is of you with your studies, in letters. I am assured you will make a grand career. You have also shown interest in politicks and business, I see."

"Yes, but I prefer to venture into English literature for now." Vincent smiled, slightly embarrassed. His face blushed. He swallowed, catching his breath. "And, I have meant a beautiful girl. Her name is Rachel Durless, she is a countess. She has angelic blonde hair and deep blue eyes, as if they came from the waters of Excalibur." His heart thumped in his chest, and as he thought of her, his eyes glazed over.

"Your father has mentioned her as well," his grandfather said. "He has seen you two together, and believes you a wonderful parting. The Phantomhive's and the Durless are noble families, and noble's do marry nobles. Your father was uncertain about choosing a fiancée for you…"

"Fiancée? Grandfather, I am not ready to be married. I do like Rachel, very much, however. But I am aware over the last few decades that the Phantomhive line has dwindled. So many terrible deaths, and no one can reason why. It is almost as if someone has placed a curse upon our family."

"Vincent, I never thought you one to be superstitious."

"It is not superstition that abounds me, grandfather. It is a supposition that I hypothesize based on our family lineage. We are only what's left of a once large family encumbered with mysterious and tragic deaths and…" Vincent shook his head. "Pay it no mind. I am merely rambling at the mouth."

His grandfather smiled. "We all die, Vincent. Life giveth and life taketh away." He stood up, reached into his trousers pocket and brought out a small box wrapped in paper. "Let us think of happier thoughts. It is your birthday, Vincent. As your father is away on business, he asked me to give this to you, from all of us." Vincent happily accepted it. "You are a handsome, grown man, Vincent. Fourteen years as of today. And your father wanted this to be yours when he felt it was time. He is saddened he could not be here."

Vincent unwrapped it, and opened the box. And Vincent's eyes lit up, as he plunked his father's ring from its soft housing. It was a blue gem surrounded in a solid gold ring encasement. His father always wore it, as had his father, passed down the line to the most deserved Phantomhive children. Vincent had always admired it, as if it were a prize from the heavens.

He slipped it on the third finger of his left hand and admired it in the light of the study desk lamp. It was exquisite. Despite it being blue, it radiated an almost blood red reflection on the wall.

"It is said to be a piece of the original Hope Diamond," his grandfather explained, "that our late ancestor Edward Lukas Phantomhive had smuggled out of France during the French Revolution, cut, and pieces sent to the family as gifts, because it embodiment that of royalty, which the Phantomhive's have always demonstrated in English society. The original diamond was returned to France. This piece is all that remains of the rest. The rest were lost. But this piece, made into a ring, has remained in the Phantomhive family as a show of strength. And you are very strong, Vincent."

Vincent was awe-struck by its brilliance, and he could not stop looking at it. "I shall endeavor to cherish it as you and my father have, it is quite beautiful," he said breathlessly. He felt it overtake him with admiration, and his eyes glittered as he gazed into its ocean blue face. "And I shall pass it down to my children, when I see it fit. Thank you grandfather."

"Your father and I have overwhelming faith in you, Vincent. You are the last of the Phantomhive line. We know you will not disappoint us."

**To be continued…**


	21. More Revelations

_**CHAPTER 20 - "MORE REVELATIONS"**_

After everything the Undertaker said, Lukas looked at the creepy looking man with high incredulity. He was in utter disbelief. "I-I don't believe you. You speak lies!"

"By my heart, I speak the truth, my lord," the Undertaker said. "You may believe it or not, but as a member of your father's sect, there were secrets even Tanaka, his elder butler, did not know."

Lukas held the mug almost emptied of chocolate drink in his lap, it had gone cold long ago, even before the Undertaker had gone through even half of what he had spoken. Nothing this man sounded in the realm of deception, Lukas felt. But he couldn't believe a word of it.

He sat mindful for a long moment, digesting everything that he had heard. But all that he had listened to meant nothing to him because of his amnesia, it was all merely words spun from a man who craved on the misfortune of others. What Lukas needed was to decipher truth from fiction, nothing the Undertaker said had validity yet. The Undertaker could say anything about Vincent Phantomhive and his sect of aristocrats, but as he was the only one of the sect still alive, how could Lukas prove otherwise anything he said?

"I want proof of your words, or I was brand you a lair and tell my brother of your heresy against our family. If my brother just heard what you said, he'd kill you were you stand."

The Undertaker laughed. "It's difficult to kill that which is already - " He stopped. "And you would not, my lord? If my words would offend Ciel Phantomhive, why then do you not attempt to strike me down? Even with that pistol behind you back."

Lukas mentally felt the impression of the pistol he had hidden in his belt behind his back. But how did the Undertaker know it was there, hidden within his coat? "I, unlike my brother, have…an open mind. But even this is too fantastic to be truth!"

"I speak no lies and have nothing to gain by such. You said you were hunting for answers, I have thus provided much more than you bargained for, which you have to admit? It will be up to you want you choose to do with the information."

Lukas shook his head. "Proof, Undertaker. Give me substantiation of your words! Or I will leave this shop right now, and adhere to the Phantomhive heed and have you hunted down for - "

The Undertaker raised a hand, suddenly quieting Lukas. "You are becoming more like your brother every day. Very well. Allow me to prepare something, and then all will be brought to light. But I must warn you, you may not like what you learn."

"Do it!"

The Undertaker went into the back storeroom and did not return for several minutes. When he did, he brought with him a bucket filled with a chemical concoction. Filling a coffin with water, which seemed to have no leaks, he poured the concoction evenly within across the watery surface.

"And what pray tell are you doing?" asked Lukas, sniffing the water. There was a hint of Rosemary.

"You asked for proof, my lord. I am providing it. Remove your clothes and get in."

Lukas straightened incredulously. "I will certainly not! Maybe I was wrong about you, Undertaker."

"I have poured a series of chemical compounds into the water," the Undertaker said. "They are designed to mimic relaxers and hallucinogens. The mind is like a box, someone once told me. It can store an unlimited amount of knowledge and can be assessed if properly cultivated. It can also be concealed the same way."

"But how will floating in…a box filled with water and these chemicals help me with my amnesia?"

"Because once in contact with human skin, body heat will activate the relaxers and hallucinogens to open the mind to possibilities of revelation. No need to fret, my lord. It will not harm you."

"I still don't trust you, Undertaker." Lukas sighed. "But you have been kind to me and told me much of my family that I did not know, no matter how fantastic."

Putting the mug down, he began to undress. And then stood next to the coffin in his under-garments.

"Everything, my lord. I am no pervert. The water much touch bare skin to work to its fullest. I only wish to help."

Despite his reservations, Lukas nodded and stripped bare, then stepped into the coffin and laid down. The water lifted him, floating his body, and he had the unusual feeling of being half way between life and death, and as the chemical compounds began to fizzle and bubble, much like bath salts, he was immediately soothed by their tingling properties. It was almost as if he were taking a bath.

"How long is this suppose to - "

Suddenly darkness engulfed him as the lid to the coffin slammed overhead, trapping him, and he heard a hammer nailing it shut.

"Wait! Undertaker - "

He banged on the top of the coffin, but it would not budge. He swished around inside banging on every part of what was now _his_ coffin, but it was airtight, and there was only the Undertaker on the outside who could hear his calls. It was obvious that man had indeed lured him into a false sense of security.

He was a fool. He had allowed the Undertaker to goad him, and now it had lead him to his death!

The fizzle and bubbling of the water increased until it filled the whole inside with a incense not unlike Rosemary. While a pleasant smell, he did not want to breath it in fearing it also contained a harmful gas that would kill him, and he heard his breath. If the Undertaker could sooth headaches with embalming fluid, a known chemical that helps preserve a dead body for public showing and can kill if ingested, then he would certainly knew other compounds that can harm a human body…

Lukas continued to bang on every area of the inside of the coffin, swishing the water around in tidal waves as he did, hoping he could open a hole so he could escape, but in doing so, he created more of the Rosemary _death_ gas, and he was quickly running out of energy, and breath.

His cheeks were puffed, but he felt air escaping unwantedly from the side of his mouth. He tried to keep it in, but the instinctive need to breath won out, and he blew out a breath.

And in that, he breathed back in, and he immediately felt a feeling of drowsiness.

And darkness took him.

* * *

_He looked around, everywhere was surrounded in mist. Turning in every direction, all he see was a thin veil of angelic white, and it swirled with every movement he made. It engulfed him, it attached to his naked flesh. Had the Undertaker actually murdered him and this was the afterlife?_

_He laughed, what a joke. Because he had amnesia until he 'died', what could he truly remember to substantiate his life so he could recall? And where was the Grim Reaper that was suppose to meet a soul to lead him on his way to…this, nothingness?_

_Was this where he was going to spend eternity?_

_The mind's eye didn't lie. Most of his life was a blank slate. So this place was very appropriate._

_Suddenly, then it happened. And in a cinematic record of some kind, like a movie film reel, his life played out in full before his eyes, as his entire twelve and half years spewed out from his chest, escaping into this void of a realm to show him what_

_he had forgotten, but that his mind had never._

_As he watched it all, time passed like nothing, and he was both shocked and horrified at his life. From the time before he was kidnapped and to the seven years after…_

_"Why? Why? Why?" he screamed out into the nothingness, enraged at what he was seeing, hoping for some sort of an answer. But he knew he would not get one._

_But from within the reel that spun every which way encircling him, a voice echoed from the void. It was a voice both anonymous and yet familiar at the same time. He did not recall hearing it before, and yet its tone resonated a proverbial knowledge inside him._

_It was the voice of his father._

_"Lukas, my son. Apologies, from you mother and I." The voice came from everywhere. "We did not mean to hurt you. We did not know…but we should have known about Bryon Kelvin."_

_Lukas furrowed his brow. Was this his actual father speaking to him from beyond the grave or was it his own imagination, a sign of oxygen depravity as he was trapped in the coffin?_

_He answered the voice. "I didn't want to believe it, but history can not lie. My history! The life - the life I could have lead - you stole it from me! I was cast away, my face altered, I was brainwashed and trained to do horrible things…trained to kill, for which I even went after a friend of yours in Rome, Italy, on orders from 'father', Bryon Kelvin. And for what?" He felt the curve of his face, he was the twin reflection of his fraternal brother Ciel, and he wanted more than anything to rip his face off. "An accident? You may have been deceived, father, but in the end, it cost you dearly! And it cost me everything!"_

_The voice did not say anything._

_The truth felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and to actually say it brought it validity._

_"I know what I must do, what must be done - it is all so clear to me. I know now why I have returned from the brink of obscurity. I remember everything. And thus, it ends here!"_

_"No, son!" the voice of his father said pleading, booming through the mist. "You are mistaken!"_

_"I will not listen anymore, I will not relent in my mission. You will wrought what you have sowed, father. You sought to destroy me, and now it will be your undoing!"_

* * *

Ciel awoke startled to a loud crash, or rather a large explosion when he fully awoke. The mansion shook when the explosions continued in rapid succession, like cannonballs hitting the ground. It reminded him of the battle the servants had had with the invaders by the Inner Circle when they wanted to retrieve Lukas.

He clammered out of bed, and looked out the window to the back courtyard, but he did not see an army of hired thugs and mercenaries attacking the mansion. Another explosion hit the mansion, or close to it.

Then his eyes widened in horror when he saw Sasha and Samual Ironstadt, as they backed into sight of the window, and each of them held several small objects in hand, looking like a small viles with liquid inside. He gasped, as he realized what they were. And Sebastian within throwing distance, obviously forting them off, avoiding the explosive concoctions of liquid nitroglycerin. It was a powerful and highly unstable explosive used to destroy hard rock, and the twins were wiping it around as if it were merely water.

"Sabastian!" he cried out, slamming his fists against the window.

Sebastian had heard him and briefly looked up. But so had one of the twins.

Sasha or Samuel, which ever one it was - they were so identical it was difficult to tell them apart, more so than he and Lukas - raised his arm and threw thrown one of the viles towards Ciel's bedroom window before Sebastian could intercept it. Ciel saw it, and quickly jumped out of the away as the object blew his window inwards, destroying the large bay window and scattering debris and glass everywhere.

Ciel looked about his bed chambers and the destruction the explosive vile had caused, and he momentarily cursed Sebastian for not preventing it. But he had not been hurt by the blast, although he did have a slight ringing in his ears. A similar thing happened to Lukas only a week before to his bed chambers, in one of the visitor's quarters on the main floor, and the twins were responsible for that destruction as well. Ironic, Ciel thought. That the same thing would happen to both of them.

And for a split moment, he wondered where his brother was. They were obviously back for a second attempt at retrieving him.

Moving very carefully across the floor on his hands and knees, he reached his bedside table and yanked his eye patch off and put it on, to cover the covenant in his right eye, then they made his way out into the hall the same way, and got to his feet. He was lucky he didn't cut himself on any glass.

"Sebastian!" he yelled out, as if to summon the butler by order. He had reached the top vestibule of the main staircase, when he was stopped in his tracks.

A thin, well dressed man, with glasses and a ponytail, and a gypsy woman in typical such attire, stood at the foot of the staircase. At their feet, lain Finny, Mey-Rin, and Bardroy, the servants, all immobile and incapacitated somehow. But unlike the twins outside, nothing inside was hit with explosions or damaged in the main hall. They stood looking up at him as if they had been welcomed.

Ciel wore his bed shirt that covered him down to his knees, but he was not concerned with his dress attire at the moment. He stepped to the elongated plateau that branched the vestibule of the staircase and glared down at these two intruders.

"Who are you people? How dare you invade my mansion! Sebastian!"

"He can't help you, lord Phantomhive," the man said. "He's preoccupied at the moment." The held up a small vile of explosives.

Ciel didn't need it spelled out for him, these two and the twins were working together.

And then he recognized the man's face. And he blinked twice just to make sure. He clenched a fist at his side, but held straight-faced. He didn't want to give away that he knew who the man was. The woman, he didn't know. But if she was helping Mathu Kelvin, nephew of Bryon Kelvin, then the Inner Circle had to be involved, and they were here to retrieve his brother once more.

But how did these two get past his servants? And where was Tanaka? He was not among them.

"What did you do to my servants?" He demanded, pointing. "Are they dead?"

"No, merely asleep." The woman turned one of them over, Finny, and showed a dart sticking out from the side of his neck, like the others. In her hand was a long tube like a flute, but with both ends open. It was a blowgun, the same African tribesmen used to hunt game and incapacitate enemies. The darts could either be filled with sleep serum or something deadly that stops all nerve activity in the body, rendering the person inert. "We wanted to halt any bloodshed before it began," Mathu Kelvin finished.

"Is that why you're setting off explosions around my mansion, your hired mercenaries - those sick and twisted twins - set to kill my butler?"

"A distraction," Mathu said. "And we both know Sebastian Michaelis is no mere butler, Ciel Phantomhive. He is a product of your sinister intent, to hunt down those who murdered your parents. A demon."

Ciel's eyes widened with disbelief. "W-what are you talking about?"

"Come, my lord Phantomhive, we don't have time for lies. We know you and Sebastian Michaelis are bond by contract for your soul. You summoned him in the amphitheatre the Inner Circle used - and I am speaking about them in the past tense because they are all extinct now, I killed them all - when you were at death's door. In exchange for your soul, he would serve you until all those who did you wrong were murdered. How do I know this? Because I was there. I am a Fallen Reaper."

Ciel looked at him with impunity. "Explain."

And Mathu Kelvin, or the thing masquerading as Bryon Kelvin's nephew, told the whole story about how all four of them - he, his wife (the gypsy woman), and the twins (his brother) - were at the ceremony to sacrifice innocent children to demonic forces for knowledge from the great beyond. Only it didn't happen as planned, and when a gateway was opened inside the amphitheatre, a demon came through and slaughtered everyone. It was then that the Fallen Reapers inhabited the bodies of four humans before the Reapers came.

Ciel gritted him teeth in utter rage. "You murdered my parents, had me kidnapped and tortured, my twin brother torn asunder from my family, all for personal gain! You are the cause of my family befall! I will have you all killed for your sadistic intent! Sebastian!"

"I'm afraid he's still indisposed," a new voice said.

Ciel looked off beyond Mathu Kelvin and the woman, at a new pair of intruders. But one intruder he knew all too well. Once his aunt's inept butler, Grell Sutcliff, a Reaper - and the man who killed his aunt because she couldn't murder her nephew when Ciel found out she was "Jack the Ripper" - stood next to another man, his younger, with blond/black hair, wearing black Reaper attire, and the standard Reaper glasses. Grell Sutcliff wore his flamboyant blood suit, with jacket, as always, that adjoined to the color of his hair.

"Are we too late to the party?" this new Reaper said jokingly.

"Who the hell let you out of your cage?" Mathu Kelvin scorned. "Oh, you…"

The younger Reaper did a small bow. "Ronald Knox, at your service. You must be Mathu Kelvin, and his lovely significant other, Savannah, the gypsy fortune-teller. Guess you never saw us coming, didj'ya?"

Ciel lifted his chin and composed himself. "Grell," he said calmly. "Kill them, and you can do whatever you like with Sebastian."

Grell's eyes opened wide. "Oh?" He hugged himself in utter delight. "Even kissing?"

Ronald Knox stuck his tongue out repulsed.

"If you wish it," Ciel said. "Murder these fiends, and whatever you heart desires will be yours. I will expect nothing less than complete bloodshed like those prostitutes in White Chapel. Whatever it takes. Do it now!"

Knox held steadfast, holding Grell back. "Can't, your worship," he said to Ciel. "Grell, remember, you're on probation. Anymore slip-ups and you'll end up a Fallen Reaper yourself. You really want that? Observe only. Nothing else. This is a human affair."

"What?" Grell slumped his shoulders. "Oh, yeah…that's right. Will's directive. Sorry."

Mathu laughed. "You Reapers and your rules, it's no wonder why we rebelled."

"You rebelled because you don't believe in the order of things," Knox said. "We Reapers are go-betweens for life and death, to help humans pass on…we can't interfere with their lives and alter things."

"Pish," Mathu waved him off. "I merely helped humanity advance their knowledge when Atlantis arose from the stone age." He then turned back to Ciel. "Now, without anymore interference, where is your brother? Where is Lukas Phantomhive?"

"Answer me this. What did you do to him? Who took him, and why?"

Mathu shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. That wasn't my forte. You'd have to ask my uncle."

"And where is Bryon Kelvin?"

Again Mathu shrugged. "Disappeared. Alive or dead, I don't know."

"You're lying! I want him dead!"

"I would be happy to do that for you sir." Sebastian entered the main doorway with the bodies of Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt being dragged by their collars in each hand. Both were unconscious, and their clothes were half burnt, along with their bodies bloodied. But they were still alive. "Finding him will be problematic, however. He has so many influential friends that will aid in his hiding." Sebastian dropped them to the floor in a heap and brushed off dirt from his white gloves. "They were worthy opponents, but a far cry from beating me, I'm afraid."

With all the activity here, Ciel had not noticed that the explosions had stopped. He did not know how Sebastian defeated the twins, but that would have to wait until later.

"My sweet Bassie!" Grell cried, holding out his arms and running to him for an embrace.

Sebastian held out a hand, stopping Grell in his tracks. "We'll have none of that, Grell." Sebastian then looked at those that had gathered at the foot of the staircase. "What's all this then? We have guests? I'm sorry, Master. I was unable to accept them properly into the mansion."

Ciel smirked, safe in the knowledge Sebastian would dispose of the Fallen Reapers. "Don't let it happen again."

Sebastian bowed slightly. "Of course. Shall I escort them out?"

"No, kill them," Ciel said. "They murdered my parents. They are the last."

"The last, my lord?" Sebastian smirked. "I understand."

Mathu Kelvin held up his hands. "No, kid. We didn't murder your parents. And I don't know who did."

"And you can't kill them, anyhow," Knox said. "They are Fallen Reapers."

Sebastian nodded. Then he mused out loud. "I believe I am missing a few pieces to this puzzle. Would something please explain this impromptu gathering of sorts?"

Mathu stepped forward. "We are here to collect Lukas Phantomhive," he began. "We have been lead to believe his mind is in possession of certain information we need to restore our bodies back to us for which the Reapers removed after we fell from grace, information stored in his chemical make-up thousands of years old, that descendants of the Phantomhive's may have come into contact with."

"As my master often says, once something is truly gone, you can never get it back again," Sebastian said, "and that, I would muse, bodies that have turned to dust ages ago."

"These are Reaper bodies. The mere remembrance of their images can restore them back to solid form. Once that occurs, we will leave _these_ bodies and leave you all in peace."

"No, we'll never let that happen!' Knox said. "You wont go in peace, you'll just continue your rampage and destruction on humanity and destroy everything insight, just like you did when you fell."

"A person can do a lot of soul searching in ten thousands years, young Reaper," Mathu said, as if he were speaking to an apprentice in training.

"Enough of this foolishness!" Ciel interrupted. This was his mansion, he was master here. If these people would not tell him who murdered his parents, then they would pay. He ripped off the eye patch that covered the covenant. His right eye glowed. "Sebastian, I order you…kill them! Kill them now!"

Sebastian sighed. "While it saddens my black heart to say, my lord, I'm afraid I can not obey that order."

"Pardon?" Ciel sneered.

"They are Reapers, my lord. Dark spirits. Albeit them inhabiting human bodies at the moment, killing the vessel would not serve any purpose. They would just move into another body and possess it, and I am afraid they would pick you."

"Very true," Knox confirmed, "as he is the only conscious human at the moment, and I doubt they would want to possess any of them." Knox pointed at the servants laying motionless on the floor. "Cast from their original bodies, they may be, they won't just steal any human body. Dark spirits desire dark souls."

Sebastian agreed. "Therefore, there is only one recourse to ending all of this."

"Then you will help us then?" Mathu said. "We get what we want, and your master will be spared."

"That is not what I am thinking, but sparing my master is my top priority."

Ciel shook his head, his eyes widened with implication. "No, Sebastian…you're not saying…"

"To alleviate all concerns involved…" Sebastian looked at both Grell and Knox, "…and in addition to any potential threats," he said, gazing at Ciel. "_I_ will find Lukas Phantomhive. And sad as it may be, even though my master and he have just been reunited after so many years apart." Sebastian's eyes glowed. "Lukas Phantomhive must die."

**to be continued...**


	22. In Search of Family

**CHAPTER 21 - "IN SEARCH OF FAMILY"**

"You can't mean that," Ciel said incredulously, as he stared down at his butler at the top of the main staircase. "I gave you an order! You are to protect my brother at all costs!

"Regrettably, our contract supersedes that order. You are my foremost priority." Sebastian moved away from the twins on the floor and traversed the distance to the other servants, checking on their vital signs. He plucked the darts out from their necks. He handed them to Savannah. "I believe these are yours."

Savannah took them carefully without a word said.

"We don't want to harm the boy," Mathu Kelvin said. "We merely want what's in Lukas Phantomhive's brain. To do so, however, we must lift the amnesia he is suffering from. We have a phrase that will do so, it was programmed into his subconscious by the Inner Circle members to activate his brainwashing to kill his brother and replace him as head of the house of Phantomhive."

"What?" Ciel protested.

"I assure you, that will not happen," Sebastian said straightly. "Thus, if Master Lukas' programming is to be activated, that is grounds to eliminate him beforehand. I will not see any harm done to my master." Sebastian looked at Ciel, his eyes serious.

Ciel sighed melancholy, looking away. He did say that Sebastian was his and his alone. But he could not believe the sudden state of affairs. Sebastian vowed to kill Lukas just to protect their covenant?

"Notwithstanding," Sebastian continued. "If a way can be found to safeguard both my master and his brother, then that opinion will be considered. If not, Lukas Phantomhive will die. I will not have you return to harm my master once your bodies are restored. You will leave us now, and I will summon you when and if I locate the child. The search will be mine." His eyes glowed, as if to argue with him was forbidden.

"Fair enough," Mathu Kelvin said, putting his hands up in submission. "If a way can be found; all we want is the information in the boy's brain. You can keep the boy, do whatever you want with him afterwards. I assure you, once we get what we want, we _will_ leave you in peace."

"Then we are in agreement."

"Traitor!" Ciel declared.

Sebastian looked at Ciel with surprise. Ciel eyed Sebastian with a hatred he had never given anyone before, not even those he branded to die for murdering his parents. And his covenant eye glowed with an deep shade of red to emphasis his abhorrence.

"When this is all said and done, butler of mine," Ciel said coolly, but with a look of complete distain. "Vengeance will be upon you, and not even the very fires of Hell will save you from me!"

But it only seemed to amuse Sebastian.

* * *

When the house was emptied of the unwelcome - the Fallen Reapers and the Reapers - and the servants were revived and told a fictional story. Despite their skills as defenders of the mansion, they were clueless, and the story Sebastian had told them seemed to settle their minds, they returned to their duties. Tanaka was found unconscious in one of the backrooms and also revived. The Fallen Reapers had struck him first, coming through the back terrace and into the house.

A search of the mansion found that Lukas was no where to be found and a search party was to be held. Lukas could be anywhere. The last time Ciel had seen his brother was last night at the night meal. Sebastian had informed him that Lukas had spoken with him later that night in the study, but after that, he had not slept in his bed, and a few provisions had been taken. Also, one of pistols that had been used in the duel the day before.

Had Lukas _run away _because he embarrassed his brother and showed skills Lukas himself had no knowledge of during and after the duel? What did Bryon Kelvin and his associates do to his brother over these last seven years? Psychologically, his brother must be feeling very confused. He had told Sebastian that he was thinking of leaving because there can only be one master of a household, and in defeating the "master" of the house in a duel, it made Ciel lose face in front of his servants.

But he couldn't blame his brother, not anymore. Lukas had been stolen, and brainwashed, but now he remembered nothing of the past seven years because of his amnesia, and very little of his family before then. Ciel could not imagine the emotional turmoil Lukas must be feeling. But now a spoken programmed phrase can remove his amnesia? But what would his brother become then with all his programming? Would Lukas attempt to fulfill the Inner Circle's plan to kill Ciel and put himself in Ciel's place?

He fretted to think about it.

However now, he had a more pressing matter to contend with. A traitorous butler who was willing to murder Lukas to usurp the Fallen Reapers and to save Ciel for his own personal agenda, namely Ciel's soul. It was the first time he ever regretted making the covenant with this demon.

He sat on his bed as Sebastian dressed him, the butler was on his knees as he should be, slipping on Ciel's left leg stocking. The window of his quarters had been bordered up with plywood from the explosion earlier and the debris and glass had been removed, but the walls were still somewhat blackened with soot from the damage.

"Traitor," he muttered under his breath.

Sebastian didn't respond to it. Although with Sebastian's keen hearing, he knew the demon heard him. The butler remained straight-faced.

With a wicked slap to his face, Sebastian still didn't respond and continued to dress Ciel, moving over to his right leg, to slip on the right stocking.

Ciel stood, and Sebastian buttoned his vest. "You disgust me," he said to the butler. Sebastian didn't respond, neither did he look Ciel in the face. "How are the servants recovering?"

"They are groggy, my lord, but functioning well," Sebastian said professionally.

"I can't believe you allowed those Fallen Reapers to leave on their own accord when they knew something about the circumstances of my parents' murder. That is why the covenant stands. If you will not adhere to it, then the contract between us will be canceled. Do I make myself clear?"

This grabbed Sebastian's attention and he looked at Ciel with a gravity Ciel had never witnessed from the demon before. Ciel's own reflection stared back at him in the dark pools of the demon's eyes. "You will not cancel the contract, nor has my loyalty wavered from you, master."

"The Fallen Reapers will not keep their word, you know this." Ciel went to slap Sebastian again, but the butler grabbed Ciel's wrist in midair. "Get your hands off me!"

"You come first, Ciel Phantomhive," Sebastian said, using Ciel's name for the first time instead of his rightful title. "I will not let anything happen to your soul until the end. This is the terms of our contract. If you will not adhere to them, then _I_ will cancel the contract and devour your soul here and now, and your brother will be left to the mercy, or lack thereof, of the Fallen Reapers."

Sebastian released Ciel, and Ciel felt his wrist. Sebastian had squeezed it hard. "But until then, and as long as each of us adhere to the contract, you are mine! Let me make _this_ absolutely clear. I hold your leash."

Sebastian stood and bowed. "Yes, my lord."

"And never use my name disrespectfully again!"

Sebastian apologized.

"Did you know I named you after my dog, who was also killed on that fateful night?" Ciel said, just to be mean. "He was a Borzoi, a Russian Wolfhound, a most beautiful creature. So kind and compassionate. I named you after him because you came to my help in the amphitheatre that night. Despite being a demon, I honored you with that respect. I was greatly wrong after your disgusting, traitorous display downstairs."

"I was not aware of that, and you know how I dislike dogs." Was all he said.

Ciel snorted. "But you like cats, so-called demon animals. Your senses befall you when you see one, you forget yourself, and everything around you. There is a name for cats that is rude and crass that I now call you…" And Ciel said it, and Sebastian's eyes widened with shock.

"Master, such vulgar language. Where in the world did you learn a word like that?"

"You may home school me, Sebastian, but I am verse of the world with much allowance. Not everything I know comes from literature in books."

"But such language is not appropriate for a person in your social standing and for someone so young."

"And yet you use vulgarities. Those jokes you tell the Undertaker are crass, and yet he laughs at them. Do you not think I can not overhear them even when standing outside?"

Sebastian frowned embarrassed. "My apologizes, sir. I will endeavor to watch my language."

"And they are not even funny."

"It all depends on the delivery. But you were never one to have a sense of humor."

"What was that?"

"We will search for Master Lukas between the mansion and town, sending the servants out in each direction," Sebastian said, changing the subject. "He could not have traveled far by foot. At best, he is in town, or in the surrounding countryside, but my wager is he has reached the city."

"If he shows the same cunning in eluding us as he did in defeating me in the duel, I imagine he will have much to teach you in the art of covert operations like my parents' missions for the Queen. Some skills can be trained upon or are inherited, indeed."

"Indeed. Perhaps that is why he was chosen by Bryon Kelvin. But I have an idea where to start. I will tell the servants, and ready the carriage and horses for the journey."

When Sebastian opened Ciel's bed chambers door, Finny, Mey-Rin and Bardroy, were all standing in the hallway.

"We apologize for disturbing you, sir, but we will like to help search for Master Lukas," Finny said.

"Tanaka's told us the master's disappeared, and no one knows where he went," Bardroy said.

"Oh, I hope he's okay, yes I do," Mey-Rin said.

Ciel looked at the downtrodden three; they looked so apologetic. They had apologized earlier for being caught off-guard by Mathu Kelvin and Savannah, whom Sebastian had explained had broken into the mansion to capture Lukas, much like before, but left empty-handed thanks to Sebastian.

Ciel knew it was not their fault.

Ciel smiled, which was unusual for him. "I will welcome your company," he said. "In fact, I would like to have people around me that I can trust." That was a direct jab at Sebastian, and he knew Sebastian knew it. "So, let us look for my dear brother together, shall we?"

* * *

With Tanaka left to look after the mansion, the five of them set off in search of Lukas.

Ciel had disregarded the idea of the servants separating in different directions, wanting his _true_ allies close to him. Finny, Mey-Rin and Bardroy, sat in the cabin of the carriage with him, as Sebastian drove the horses out front, setting off on the winding dirt road that lead into town. It would take them approximately an hour.

During this time, Ciel was mindful of his thoughts, and he was even ashamed of himself for ever being jealous of his brother. He was curious how Lukas learned his secret skills, but he hoped answers would reveal themselves soon.

The whole concept of Fallen Reapers was bizarre, but having a demon as a butler made it conceivable. He would need to find a way to stop the Fallen Reapers, even his own butler, to save his brother from death. But how could Lukas know something thousands of years before he was even born?

He had heard stories of people believing they were reincarnated, that they had knowledge of past lives. Their spirit had lived thousands of years before only to resurface in modern times; people who had no connection to ancient civilizations were suddenly bombarded with secrets thought lost long ago.

Then he recalled Savannah, the fortune-teller, who had invaded his mansion with Mathu Kelvin. She was a medium. She could probably awaken this hidden information inside Lukas's mind, so the Fallen Reaper's bodies' could be recalled and restored to solid form. But then that would entail a deep dwelling into Lukas's subconscious mind, and the pressure might kill him.

This was why it was so important to find a way to stop them before they got their hands on Lukas, and if he can, stop his butler too. But how could he stop three supernatural beings? _He_ was only human. The Reapers - Grell and Knox - would be no help. They were sent on their way like the Fallen Reapers. But he knew they would probably keep watching from afar.

Then there was the rumor that Bryon Kelvin was still alive. The children kidnappings were continuing, but there had been no direct correlation between years past and the kidnappings today with Kelvin, only that Kelvin was somehow involved in Lukas's deception to his parents, saying that he had died on the operating table during surgery to fix his face of the deformities he had.

If that was a lie, then so was Bryon Kelvin's so-called death by a staff-infection when he underwent surgery to correct an _imperfection_, as he called it, according to Tanaka. But where would Kelvin be hiding? And if he was ever found, Ciel vowed bloody murder on him!

The trip in fact took longer than Ciel had anticipated, but he it paid the extra time no mind. Instead, when the carriage stopped, he found it curious Sebastian would lead him here, of all places.

"This is where you want to start, Sebastian?" Ciel said, looking out the window at the Undertaker's shop.

"He doesn't think Master Lukas is dead, does he?" Finny said worriedly.

"On the contrary," Sebastian said, stepping off the carriage. "Where better to broker information then from someone who dabbles in it more than anyone, who sees more, hears more than the average ear."

"Anyone have a good joke to tell?" Bardroy said, knowing the price of information from the Undertaker was a joke that would send the man into insatiable laughter.

Ciel sighed. He was not in a jocular mood. He stepped out of the carriage when Sebastian opened the door. The others followed him, all of them standing in front of the shop. "Sebastian, you seem to be in a fickle mood today. I'm sure the Undertaker would appreciate _your_ dark humor. You do the honor."

Ciel saw the butler's facial expression change from one of conceit to that of acquiesce, knowing Sebastian knew the hidden meaning behind Ciel's words - that he had been two-faced in sporting his own agenda when it came to disobeying his orders. Ciel knew the other servants would not get the double-entendre.

Sebastian opened the shop door for Ciel and the others, and they all filed in.

"Welcome to my parlor, gentlemen," the Undertaker greeted darkly. He smiled broadly, and was standing next to a standard size coffin on the floor. "How may I be of service, my lord? Can I measure you for one of these beauties?" The Undertaker pointed to a coffin lending against the wall. "This one is just your size - "

"Why must you always insist on measuring me for a coffin every time I come in here?" Ciel said.

"It is my job. I am an undertaker, after all."

Ciel capitulated to that. He put up a hand, and said, "No coffins. We are looking for some information. If you can help us, we would be grateful."

"And what sort of information do you require, my lord?"

"Master Lukas has gone missing," Sebastian said. "We hope you may know of his whereabouts."

"Your brother, you say," the Undertaker said, musing, his hand cupped around his chin. "You have only been reunited with him after seven long years, and now you lose him again? Tisk. How careless."

"The circumstances of his disappearance are unimportant. What we need is a starting point of his possible location. We came here to get information, which you might have."

"And what hence did you come that conclusion, butler?"

"We are in possession of certain information that has lead us to you. We know you were a member of my master's father's secret sect of aristocrats, told to us by Tanaka."

Ciel looked at Sebastian curiously. "And when were you going to tell me this little bit of _important_ information, butler of mine? Why didn't Tanaka tell me this?" Why hadn't Tanaka ever told him this? And he had never seen the Undertaker come to the mansion, ever.

"He told me this just before our departure. This is why I wanted to come here first."

_Yet another form of deception on your part,_ Ciel thought.

"I see," the Undertaker said. "How is the old man doing?"

"He is well," Sebastian said.

"Allow me to clarify certain untruths. I knew Vincent Phantomhive, but as for being a member of his secret sect of aristocrats, an amusing notion to say the least, and for which I am not an aristocrat, your elder butler is feeding you fabrications. I must have a conversion with Tanaka and set him straight on things."

"We have no time for dishonesty. We believe Master Lukas may be in danger."

"Life in its infancy is dangerous. But I will tell you what I can to help bring Lukas Phantomhive back home. So, who will start?" The Undertaker looked around to everyone for his obvious payment.

"Sebastian, go on," Ciel said.

"Of course, sir." And the butler began.

* * *

It probably wouldn't take a lot to make the Undertaker crack up, Ciel thought, but Sebastian had decided to tell a lengthy joke, filled with character narration and pragmatic undertones.

And Ciel had no intention of listening. None of Sebastian's jokes were funny anyhow.

The Undertaker being a member of his father's secret sect of aristocrats was news to him, and he wondered why Tanaka did not reveal this information to him at an earlier time. Perhaps it equalized the same information of his brother, for which Tanaka knew but did not tell him, until Lukas' appearance seven years after he was kidnapped, for which Ciel's mind was "erased" of him by his parents so he would not fret.

Indeed, even now he was still learning new information about their secret lives two years after his parents' deaths. So many mysteries had fallen into his lap in such a short time, that he was beginning to wonder if his quest to avenge his parents was in fact as honorable as he had obviously surmised.

He tossed the thought away. His parents' were murdered. What sort of lives they lead was of no consequence to what had befell them. No one wrongs a Phantomhive; he still believed his vengeance was justified. This was merely another stepping stone to finding all those who had conspired against his parents.

The Fallen Reaper known as Mathu Kelvin said he didn't knew who had murdered Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive, burning them to death inside their own mansion, but Ciel knew they had to know something they were hiding. If he could only get to Lukas first, then he could barter with them to get what he wanted. He would make them tell them him what they knew.

He wanted to save his brother, but in truth, what could he do? Vengeance on those who murdered his parents was first and foremost. It may have felt callous to think this way, but if he could get this information first, have Sebastian murder those responsible, then Lukas may still be spared…

Or was he completely misinterpreting the situation? What if the Fallen Reaper's could extract the information they needed from Lukas without killing him?

No, then everyone who knew the Fallen Reaper's secret would then be killed. No witnesses. That was the mentality of sadistic _death_ entities like these Fallen Reaper's; he knew humans who shared the same traits. So, he knew any truth between the Fallen Reapers was deception on their part to only get what they wanted. And Sebastian should know this. But he was demon out for himself. What did he care?

He had to get to Lukas before anyone did!

As the others were distracted with Sebastian's _joke_, Ciel sniffed, detecting a hint of Rosemary in the air. Had the Undertaker been preparing a body just before they arrived? It seemed to be coming from a coffin near-by, if so, then there was a dead body in the shop.

No matter, it was the Undertaker's profession, and Ciel had seen a number of dead bodies in his near 13 years, including that of his late aunt, who turned out to be Jack the Ripper, killing prostitutes. While she was a serial killer, there were times that he had missed her company. She was a strict woman at times, but she was ever loving when it came to him; she would never see any harm come to him. And even when she had her hand around his neck, strangling him in that dark alley in White Chapel, wishing that he had never been born, she couldn't kill him, despite it meaning she would be still be alive and continue killing prostitutes for her own personal agenda today. If it wasn't for her butler Grell Sutcliff, who turned out to be a Reaper, he may have suffered the say fate as his aunt's final victim, Mary Kelly.

Seeing that the other's backs were turned, he snuck away into the backroom to _snoop_. He was never one for sneaking around, he preferred the direct approach to getting answers. But as the opportunity arose, he took it, and wandered about the backroom where the Undertaker stored all his amenities. There were shelves and tables filled with every assortment of chemicals, salts and powders; all Ciel imagined the Undertaker used for his job. The smell of some things was putrid, and he covered his nose, turning away. He looked around.

Nothing seemed to catch his eye, however, nothing out of the ordinary, and he decided to leave.

But then he found something completely unusual for the Undertaker to have. It was a child's stocking, laying on the floor, and appeared to be pushed to the side under a shelf. He had only caught sight of it out of the corner of his eye when he turned to return to the showroom. He picked it up and examined it. There were no rips, snags or holes in it. It was fairly new, and expensive looking, something only the rich or elite could afford to wear. It must have been either pushed under here or hidden in a rush.

He shoved it into his trousers pocket and had another quick look around, but didn't see anything else unusual. He was almost certain this stocking belonged to Lukas. Of all places, why would it be here? Had Lukas come here after he left the mansion? Had Lukas' amnesia lifted, and he knew to come the Undertaker's shop, that he would be a safe here away from those who wanted to recapture him? Could Tanaka's information about the Undertaker being a member of his father's secret sect be true?

He was still missing something. If he didn't know about the Undertaker, how could Lukas know, being away from seven years? Unless he had privileged information, much like those special skills he exhibited during and after the duel. That, much like an instinct lead him to the mansion in the first place, could the same instinct have lead him to the Undertaker's shop because he knew it would be a safe haven?

He had to keep this to himself. If Sebastian knew, then he wouldn't rest until he choked the information out of the Undertaker of where he had possibly hid Lukas, so he could give his brother to the Fallen Reapers.

He heard insatiable laughter, and quickly slipped back out into the showroom unnoticed. The Undertaker was laughing so hard tears were coming out of his eyes, hidden underneath his thick, white hair.

Finny shrugged. "I don't get it?"

"The Undertaker has a weird sense of humor, yes he does," Mey-Rin said.

"Sebastian," Bardroy started, "explain the part about the monkey and the harmonica again?"

Even without hearing the majority of Sebastian's joke told to the Undertaker - but he had had heard it before during a dinner party for a number of guests he had had just last month, and a crass, drunken guest had told it - Ciel said, "The punchline is: blow is out your arse."

They all turned to him, and the Undertaker cracked up again, laughing uncontrollably. "Oh butler, you tell the most amusing jokes," the Undertaker said, when he began to compose himself. "And my lord, you make a most wonderful straight-man."

Sebastian seemed to smile at Ciel, for whatever reason.

"Enough," Ciel said. "Ask him a few questions and let's be on our way."

After a series of daunting and rudimentary questions which lead to nowhere, they left the shop. When they all gathered next to the carriage, Finny said, "I wonder where Master Lukas went off too?"

Ciel wondered where and if the Undertaker was hiding him.

"Did you find anything that could help us in the back room, my lord?" Sebastian asked.

Ciel snapped his attention to his butler, who produced a thin smile. "Back room?" He narrowed his gaze. He should have figured that despite telling the joke, Sebastian was still watching him. "No."

"You went into the back room, Master?" Finny said. "We didn't see you."

"That's because you were all focused on Sebastian's lame humor. I thought since everyone was distracted by the joke, even the Undertaker, I could _sneak away_ and find something. It was a waste of time." But he knew that his brother was or had been in the shop at one time. One thing he did find disturbing, however, was why would he find Lukas - or indeed a child's stocking - inside the Undertaker's shop?

But the realization of _what if _he did find his brother or knew something of his whereabouts struck him. How could he hide this information from a powerful demon, who seemed to sense where Ciel was or knew exactly what he was thinking at any given moment?

"Let's go," Ciel said.

**To be continued…**


	23. Truth And Lies

**CHAPTER 22 - "TRUTH AND LIES"**

The Undertaker watched as Ciel Phantomhive's carriage strolled away. He saw it leave going east, gazing out a small window in the front of his shop. The window was tinted so he could look out but no one could look in. He then turned when he heard footsteps coming from the backroom.

Lukas Phantomhive stood at the threshold of the room, holding the pistol that he had brought with him from the pair belonging to his father. He had spent most of the night in the coffin, only emerging early this morning, and just before his brother came knocking at the door of the shop. He had scurried away, hiding in a secret compartment in the wall that the Undertaker had for just such occasions to avoid his whereabouts being known. Lukas did not want his brother to know that he was in the shop. And it proved to be very helpful.

He was only half dressed, but he had seen through a small peephole in the wall that his brother had found his stocking on the floor that was accidentally dropped, and that Ciel had suspected that he had been in the Undertaker's shop at some point during the night.

"They have left," the Undertaker said. "You are safe."

Safe. The word sounded hollow. He would never be safe, Lukas knew. Not with everything he now knew that his amnesia had lifted. And he wanted vengeance. His father and mother had committed a horrible sin, and it was unforgivable!

But even _his_ hands were smeared with blood that may never be washed clean.

He had no knowledge of what his parents had done before, when _he_ committed _his_ unspeakable acts under the brainwashing of Bryon Kelvin. But he had no remorse of the things he did, not after what he learned during his bath during his "vision". Everything had been made clear.

The Undertaker had pushed him towards the brink of death to now return stronger with more clarity.

His history over the last seven years according to the cinematic record shown to him induced by the chemical compounds inside the coffin - they were to open his mind - had consisted of many facets.

First, Bryon Kelvin kidnapping him with help from the twins Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt, who had aided in the kidnapping of many other children over the years. Second, the _Doctor _who had carved his face up and altered it to look like his brother's eliminating a deformity, erstwhile lying to Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive that he had died during surgery. Third, the _Inner Circle_, a group of political sociopaths, men bent on usurping the Crown to install their own political regime and programming him to murder his brother and to replace him as head of the house of Phantomhive to help them in their plight. Four, he had been trained as an assassin, to murder people, even members of Vincent's secret sect of aristocrats in revenge because they rejected his _father_ - Bryon Kelvin - from joining because he was socially and physically unacceptable. And five, to being purposely set free from his imprisonment, to become reunited with his brother, by Mathu Kelvin and his associates, so Mathu Kelvin could implement his own plans of instability, and to create chaos with Ciel Phantomhive.

His life before this was forgettable and he didn't care about it. The memories he had of a father and mother who cared nothing for him, who had no second thoughts of discarding him, were worthless. And all because he looked different. He was glad they were dead. And now Ciel was the only one left of the Phantomhive _proud _legacy. Except for him, of course.

But he hated the name Phantomhive, and no longer did he consider himself a Phantomhive after everything he had seen.

And he vowed it would all end. The so-called proud lineage of the Phantomhive line will die.

He began to get fully dressed, minus a stocking, fitting the pistol behind his back of his belt; he buttoned his vest. "Thank you Undertaker for everything you have given me. My mind is no longer in turmoil."

"I opened your mind, but do not be so hasty in setting blame upon others, there is still much to decipher before action can be taken. Vengeance upon your brother has no course for what your parents did to you."

"I have every recourse to take action," Lukas said firmly. "If not on my brother, them on whom? Mmm?"

"There are others to contend with first. Those who wish you harm, for one."

Lukas nodded. "Those twins, Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt, and the Inner Circle. Yes, I agree."

"The last of the Inner Circle have been wiped away. I received word from a reliable source while you were in the coffin having your vision. Mathu Kelvin, nephew of Bryon Kelvin, a woman by the name of Savannah, a powerful fortune-teller, and the twins, murdered them the night before last. They have their own agenda, and they are very dangerous."

"Kelvin?"

"But not Kelvin," the Undertaker said.

"Explain."

"They are Fallen Reapers. Supernatural beings that have fallen from grace. Their bodies are removed and their spirits are set to wander without substance for all eternity for their crimes. But these Fallen Reapers have found a way to inhabit human bodies and have transversed through time looking for their saving grace. You. They believe you have something that they need to restore their bodies back to solid form."

"And how do you know this?"

"I am not only an Undertaker, and I am also a Reaper, a being of death, a go-between for humans from this life to the afterlife. In the last moments of their lives, I show them the cinematic record of their life. That is what you saw in your _vision_; I took you to the edge of death to lift your amnesia by putting you in that coffin, and had you breath in certain chemical compounds. Be it merely a very relaxing bath."

"You relaxed me to the point of almost my giving into sleeping for all eternally, and I am grateful to you. Ironic that you would chose death as your profession."

The Undertaker cocked his head slightly. "You are accepting of what I've just told you?"

"I have no reason to doubt you. I have been reborn. You opened my eyes as if I were blind. You are my _guardian angel_." Lukas laughed. "Or should I call you my _angel of death_?"

"Either one would suffice," the Undertaker said. "And neither."

"Noted."

Lukas picked up his pack with his provisions and buttoned his coat and put on a cap, bring the rim down close to his eyes, so he could hide his identity while out in public. He crossed the shop and opened the front door, and was temporarily blinded by the bright sunshine that invaded the dark shop only illuminated by candle light. The Undertaker liked it dark.

"Where will you be going?" the Undertaker asked.

"To finish what I started," Lukas said.

"You are free of the programming the Inner Circle installed in you, and yet you insist to continue to act on their behalf? It was not your fault, you were not in your rightful mind _that night_."

"I am not entirely to blame, but I must take the brunt of it. But what my parents did to me is unforgivable. The Inner Circle is finished, but I have my own reasons to return to the mansion and to face my brother."

"And to do what exactly? He had no hand in your kidnapping, no hand in what yours parents did to you. He is a victim in all of this too, and I doubt you can do anything with that butler of his."

"You mean the demon?"

The Undertaker was taken aback. "How do you know that?"

"I smelt evil radiating off him. I felt he was unpure from the moment I lain eyes on him, as is my brother. I do not know what _other_ form of association my brother and Sebastian Michaelis have together, but I wager it is of a sinister intent, and the only thing I can think of is they are bonded by a contract. My brother is so bent on avenging our parents' deaths that I believe he summoned Sebastian for this very purpose."

"You are jumping to conclusions filled with fabrications." The Undertaker sighed. "But you are essentially correct. The Inner Circle, a group of insidious but influential men in elite society, had planned to sacrifice your brother to appease other worldly spirits in exchange for secrets beyond the ages, but instead, they pulled a demon so rapacious that it became their undoing. He made a deal with Ciel for his soul. Once all who have done Ciel wrong are dead, Sebastian will devour your brother's soul. I have been watching Sebastian Michealis since his appearance, more than two years prior. Beneath that eye patch your brother wears holds the covenant between them. The Fallen Reapers may have murdered the remaining members, those who were not at the ceremony that night but who still conspired against your parents and the "Aristocrats of Evil", but these Reapers in particular are more dangerous than the Inner Circle ever were, and even Sebastian Michaelis. Be mindful of all of them, Lukas. But more so Sebastian; he is only out for himself. I can not help you, nor can any other Reaper. But we will be observing."

"Noted."

"For your brother's sake, you must not allow Sebastian to know about your _involvement_ on the night when you parents died, for he will kill you, take your soul, and then devour your brother's soul, feasting off it for decades. But take heart, Sebastian will have to murder _everyone_ involved to fulfill your brother's covenant with him."

Lukas nodded, knowing a handful of people this demon will need to kill to take his brother's soul, including other children who were there who set the Phantomhive mansion ablaze to cover up the murder of Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive. Unless they were already dead? He would need to try to make contact them to make sure.

The Undertaker went to the backroom and then returned with an object attached to a chain. "Take this with you, it many help defend you against the Fallen Reapers' dark magic." He explained that it was a Triad, and it was used to penetrate through spirit barriers summoned by chants.

Lukas slipped it into his right coat pocket. "Thank you again, Undertaker. For the time being, I will play dumb when I return to the mansion, abating that I am still afflicted by amnesia. I will tell them I ran away to think, because I felt self-conscious by the fact I humiliated by brother in a duel in front of his servants."

"You can trust Tanaka. He was a member of your father's secret sect of aristocrats, albeit only a butler. Trust no one else."

Lukas nodded. "I have always felt he was trustworthy. He has that aura about him."

"And your brother?"

Lukas mused for a moment. "We will see."

"Would you kill your brother to save your own life?"

"I asked myself _this _when we dueled. I shot the pistol out of Ciel's hand out of instinct because of my training, but I could not stop him from firing at me. But I believe Sebastian had something to do with my brother missing. I wager he would not allow Ciel to kill me. I think Sebastian wants _my _soul as well."

"Indeed. He would do anything to keep his own agenda, and if he wants you as well, I concur. He has been cultivating your brother's soul for the last two years, and when the time is right, he will relish and feed off Ciel's dark soul that has been festering with vengeance, hate and loathing for a long time."

"If I can prevent it, I will. But one problem at a time. There is much afoot here, and I have a lot of work to do. I thank you once more for your help."

"My pleasure, my lord Phantomhive."

"Call me Lukas. Only."

* * *

Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Midford, or as Ciel liked to call her, Lizzie, sat in her horse and carriage with her maid and confidante, Paula, as they moved through London's midtown. They had just spent a morning shopping and she had bought some new dresses, shoes and a lovely hat, but she felt melancholy because despite all these wonderful purchases, she had no one to show then off too. And the one person she most wanted to show them to was Ciel, seeing that he was her fiancée, and he appreciated quality.

But lately, Ciel had had been too busy to spend _any_ time with her. Lukas, his long lost brother, had made a sudden reappearance after being presumed dead after the Phantomhive's had taken him to a cosmic surgeon so he could have facial deformities removed. But the surgeon had said the stress had been too much for Lukas and he had dead on the operating table.

Ciel had written a comprehensive newspaper article that detailed the lie told to his parents about Lukas's dead and that those responsible will be found and tried in a court of law.

Ciel was probably spending time with Lukas to catch up lost time, but she nonetheless felt a little jealous towards Lukas for stealing what little affection Ciel gave. Ciel acted staunch to the ways of his family name, and kept his emotions inward, but she knew his loyalty was more than just duty. They were cousins, their families meeting at cross-purposes and married at some time in the past. But royals married royals, that was the way of things, and as Ciel was - or was thought to be - the last of his family lineage, so it was agreed a pre-arranged marriage, despite family, be made by their parents. It was made when they were very young, but Ciel, honor-bound, accepted it despite showing very little affection towards her.

She wondered where Ciel was now.

Then, as if her eyes deceived her, she thought she saw him exiting from the Undertaker's shop, as the carriage passed by. He was wearing a coat, wrapped around him, and a commoner's cap, fitted low to his brow, as if trying to hide. But Sebastian was not with him. Ciel never went anywhere without his butler.

"Stop!" she ordered the driver.

"What is it, my lady?" Paula asked.

The carriage came to a stop, and Lizzie stuck her head out the open window and called out to him as Ciel walked along the sidewalk in her direction. "Ciel?"

The boy stopped and looked up at her, but it wasn't Ciel. It was Lukas.

"Oh, Lukas…" She was a little disappointed, but tried not to show it. The last time she had seen him was at the Phantonhive mansion about one week prior where hundreds of people attended and were invited for Lukas's homecoming. It was much fanfare and a glorious event.

"Lady Elizabeth?" he said surprised, but smiled. He approached the carriage, lifting his cap up slightly. "And distinguished company," acknowledging Paula. "Fancy meeting you here." He took a glimpse above and probably saw the packages strapped to the roof, then looked back at her. "Shopping I see."

"Yes." She smiled. "What were you doing coming from the Undertaker's shop?" she asked openly. "And where is Ciel?" She swallowed, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry, that was rude. I am pleased to see you."

"And I you, Lady Elizabeth."

"Please, call me Lizzie, like Ciel does."

He smiled. "Very well. I was gathering information," he answered her first question. "And I believe Ciel is back home. I was on my way back to the mansion. If I can request a ride, I can tell you what I found."

She beckoned him in, and he sat down. "Thank you, I do appreciate this."

"Driver, to the Phantomhive mansion," she said, and the carriage moved. "Gathering information?"

"How did you get all the way out here without transportation?" Paula asked, before he could answer Lizzie's question.

"I am ashamed to admit it especially with my new station in life being a Phantomhive, but I walked. There was no other option. None of the horses were prepped. But the exercise did me good."

"It must have been a long and tiresome walk?" Paula added.

"Indeed, but important." He laughed. "Another folly, I was playing detective, and I wanted to be secretive. For some time now, Ciel has suspected a gang somewhere in town have been counterfeiting his goods and selling them on the black market for half or quarter cost, but claiming they are authentic. As I am but learning the business trade, I wanted to help my brother out by gathering some information on possible suspects, and the Undertaker is a wonderful source of information as he knows much about everything."

"I have heard that," Lizzie agreed. "And Ciel has spoken and is quite upset about these counterfeit goods. But he has never been able to acquire information on the thieves. He must be happy to have your help."

"Indeed. But it is exhausting work and I'm afraid the problem stems much deeper than even anyone thought and countless levels of thievery is afoot. I was on my way home to give this information to my brother when you came along. How fortuitous for me." He smiled thinly.

"Yes," Lizzie smiled broadly. "And it will give us time to get to know each other better."

"Quite."

* * *

Inside the Undertaker's shop, the dark gloominess of his inner sanctum returned, and the Undertaker suddenly felt retrospective of his time spent with Lukas Phantomhive. The boy was just like his father, now that he had his complete memory restored. But he was worried what he would do with all the new information he had learned of his past.

Vincent Phantomhive was, for the most part, a kind and considerate man. But at other times, he was just as conceited and nasty as most of the English elite, especially when it came to "perfection". On the façade, Vincent Phantomhive had been a well respected and intelligent man with close ties with the Queen; her royal guard dog, and sent on missions to usurp anyone who threatened the throne. But privately, there was a certain disrespect the Undertaker held for his former friend that he had kept secret, until now.

The truth about Lukas's disappearance was tragic, but if it hadn't been for Vincent Phantomhive's pride for not only his social standing but also as a father and his own conceited notion of beauty, the boy would have been fine, and not kidnapped by Bryon Kelvin for his own sinister means. In fact, for as long as he had know the Phantomhive's - and that had been ages - they had always been "cursed", bad things had always befallen them, including their own deaths. Save for the piece of the Hope Diamond in a ring Ciel inherited from his father which was cursed in its own rite, according to history. It was too large for Ciel to wear around his third finger, so he wore it around his thumb.

Now Ciel was indebted to a demon whom he promised his soul for revenge against those who had murdered Vincent and his wife, and it saddened him that indeed these two boys, the sons of Vincent Phantomhive, may perhaps been the last of the family line.

But he could not get anymore involved than he already had, to do so would be precautious and opposed to policy. Reapers were not supposed to dabble in human affairs. They were go-betweens between life and death, and that was it. The Fallen Reapers had superseded this mandate and had fallen. He needed to be weary of himself now with the Fallen Reapers on the loose, despite in possession of human hosts, they were still dangerous, especially Mathu Kelvin, who was a master of dark magic, and Savannah, his wife, who could call upon other Fallen Reaper spirits to aid them. Even Reapers were not infinite and could be killed.

He suddenly sensed two entities emerge inside his shop as he organized a near-by table. He knew who they were without having to turn around. He could sense their auras.

"Gentlemen," he said gruffly, turning around. Grell Sutcliff and Ronald Knox stood next to a coffin on the floor, the very same coffin the Undertaker had used to restore Lukas Phantomhive's memory by using bath salts and scents. All the chemical compounds he poured into the water were natural, they did not hurt him, and he told Lukas such afterwards. They were blended to help open the mind and restore cognition. "To what do I own the pleasure of your company, hmm?"

"You told him too much, Salem," Knox said. "Will is unhappy."

"_Will_ is always unhappy."

"You gave a human very classified and highly privileged Reaper information. You violated policy. Will is asking for an explanation."

"Tell him it was my prerogative to tell Lukas Phantomhive. Will is a stickler for rules, so tell him, under Directive 9, Section 4.1, Subsection 7.8., paragraph 4 of the Reaper codebook: 'When it comes to third party entities, information can and will be shared among those worthy, if it is deemed necessary to safeguard a Reaper's continued existence to perform his duties.'"

"Lukas Phantomhive is a human. You told him you were a Reaper. What's to say he doesn't tell someone?"

"And who will believe him?"

"How were you threatened by Lukas Phantomive?"

"Is this an inquisition? He told me he'd kill me if I didn't tell him what he wanted to know." A smirk broadened the Undertaker's face. "And besides, the boy's mind is so messed up, he needed to be told some truth. He has been fed lies for so many years, to him, the sky in the ground, and vice versa."

"But you can't be killed by a human," Grell said. "His threat was meaningless."

"The boy was adamant," his tone firm, as if to argue further was unwise. The Undertaker returned to organizing items on a near-by table. "And in any case, I outrank Will, despite he is head of Reaper Affairs. If he is so concerned with rules, have him speak to me personally. So, anything else Will is complaining about? I am a busy man and I need to return to my own affairs. Humans bodies just to bury themselves."

"Um, nothing else," Knox said less-confident. "That was it, I suppose."

The Undertaken stopped, and was thoughtful for a moment. "One thing I ask, however," he said, then turning to the pair. "Watch over the boy. There is something special about him."

"Lukas Phantomhive? In what way?" asked Knox.

The Undertaker mused for a moment, gazing deep into his inner-self, then back at the pair of Reapers. "There is a war coming," he said solemnly. "And I believe he is instrumental in defusing it."

**To be continued…**


	24. OMNES MALA FERENT

**CHAPTER 23 - "OMNES MALA FERENT"**

Ciel listened to the clopping of the two horse's hoofs on the street cobblestones as Sebastian lead them to _his_ next deserved destination on their way to find Lukas in London. In fact, Sebastian had a series of spots he wanted to visit in theory where Lukas might be "hiding". Sebastian had suggested Lukas "ran away" because he had defeated Ciel in their duel. But that was over with.

He was mindful again. The others talked among themselves in the cabin, but he was thinking deeply of how he could possibly foil the Fallen Reaper's plans and even that of his own demon butler so he could safeguard his brother from an almost certain death by five demonic beings who in truth hated humans. They hungered for human souls, and would do anything to get what they wanted. Even cause bloody murder.

It was then that he felt a little apprehensive as he sat with Finny, Mey-Rin and Bardroy. He looked at each of them briefly in turn, and despite their blissful ignorance of the true situation, he quickly reasoned why. He had encased himself in a false sense of security with them, surrounding himself with these servants, the same servants Sebastian had _chosen_ to protect the mansion from all manner of threats. Sebastian had ventured throughout all of London to acquire the best help he could find among the meandering masses and then put them in servitude of the Phantomhive mansion in jobs they were not accustomed to in life.

They each had their own unique talents - Finny's super strength, which may have been chemically induced with scientific experimentation; Mey-Rin, a superior gunslinger and hired assassin; and Bardroy, a master marksman formerly of the British infantry. Despite all their ineptness and clumsiness at home in their jobs as gardener, maid and cook, when the pressure was on, they showed their true trained aptitudes.

And this is was worried him. Would Sebastian control them telepathically using his demonic powers to aid the Fallen Reapers in their plight? Even murder Lukas without mercy to safeguard the covenant?

In the end, Sebastian was a demon, orders or not, he had his own agenda, and being a butler was mere humor to get what he wanted - a dark soul to feast on for years to come.

And he did not look forward to the day when this demon was to take his soul.

But the contract had been struck and him marked with a covenant. The Inner Circle had also marked him with the Mark of the Beast, the brand of Lucifer. Why hadn't Sebastian merely taken his soul then before the Inner Circle killed him? Sebastian had said that he was tired of hallow souls and wanted to cultivate a more desirable soul to devour, but Ciel waged there was more to that explanation than Sebastian was willing to admit. Even demons got bored of repetitiveness.

It could be years, even decades, before all those who murdered his parents or all who were involved were revealed, and if they were not, how long was Sebastian intending to keep him alive? It was revenge to avenge his parents that fueled him. Sebastian knew this. So he was living on borrowed time.

Nevertheless, until the end, as Sebastian would say, he held this demon's leash, and if he failed to abide by their contract, the deal was off. And if the worse case scenario arose, and he was betrayed, he would never let Sebastian have his soul, and commit the most deplorable sin of all - all to foil his demon butler. But that would have to wait. He still had options. And until all of them ran out, he would utilize what he had.

He had feared that he had just missed his brother at the Undertaker's shop, the leg stocking in his pocket indicated such. Or, and it wasn't out of the realm of possibility, what if Lukas actually hiding from him? Did he not want to be found? Had the duel been such a dramatic experience that it caused him to seek shelter elsewhere fearing retribution?

_He did embarrass me in front of all my servants,_ Ciel thought.

But he had put that behind him. And Lukas didn't seem like the self-conscience type. He was a Phantomhive. He had a thick skin. The fact that Lukas had challenged him to the duel proved that. But he did seem equally shocked by his own hidden skills. Perhaps he just went away to think things out?

_But this is no time to be hiding like a child._

He didn't want the Fallen Reapers to find Lukas before he did and bleed his mind dry, but he was at the mercy of Sebastian, being lead around like a dog on a leash in this horse and carriage.

The master had become the dog.

* * *

After a morning of futile searching, it was decided they would return back to the mansion. Dark clouds had rolled in and were warring for a storm.

But they made on more stop. And it was at a tea shop.

"I shalt be a moment, sir," Sebastian said. "I remember we are out of Earl Grey tea."

"Be quick about it," Ciel said. It was in fact his favorite favor of tea. It had also become his brother's favorite tea as well. He always requested it.

Sebastian returned a few minutes later with a box of favored teas and returned to the upper carriage. He reigned the horses and the carriage started off again, then time back to the mansion.

Sebastian didn't appear disappointed in not finding Lukas or any clues to his whereabouts. It almost felt like he wasn't actually looking for him, as if he didn't need to know, and going about town was mere distraction, waiting for something to happen.

Ciel contemplated this for a moment. If Lukas met the Undertaker, and both he and Tanaka were part of his father's secret sect of aristocrats, and the Undertaker told him certain things about Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive, what was to stop the Undertaker from hiding Lukas? If this was the case, Ciel felt more at ease. At least he would be away from Sebastian, and the Fallen Reapers would not find him as easily. But what if Sebastian had suspected he found something in the backroom when he was snooped around and was just waiting until Lukas to make his way back home?

_What ifs…_

Lukas was only twelve, but he had most likely seen things Ciel would never see in his lifetime. Provisions and water had been taken, but not enough for a long period. But with his hidden skills, it was more than likely that Lukas knew how to take care of himself without the company of others. If he had been trained in survival and warfare, then he could be anyone by now.

That was good.

The carriage entered the main gates and instantly Ciel saw a surprising sight. There was another carriage in the turnabout with the driver standing next to the horses.

"Is that…" Finny started to say.

"What's she doing here?" Ciel said upset. "Lizzie always picks the most inopportune time to visit."

"She is your fiancée, sir," Sebastian said. "Does she need an invitation?"

"You know what I mean," he said curtly.

The carriage came to a stop and those inside filed out one-by-one.

"I will join you when the horses and carriage are put away in the stables," Sebastian said, from his perched seat at the front of the carriage.

Ciel looked up at him, indeed the rolls had been reserved. The symbolic nature of him perched up high and Ciel below was indicative of their association now. But ever the professional, Sebastian would not undermine Ciel in front of others. So in that respect the power was still with the master. For now.

Tanaka met them at the door. "Master Ciel? You're finally home. Lady Elizabeth is here and…"

"I know," Ciel said quickly, entering the mansion first. "When did she arrive?"

"Hours ago. She is in the Drawing Room."

Ciel started towards the room, thinking of something, hoping to persuade her to leave. He had no time for her foolishness right now. She always had some scheme up her sleeve to redecorate the mansion, or play dress up, or some other outrageous thing that he absolutely had no time to do. She was his fiancée, but this was not a good time.

"And sir, she is with -"

Ciel opened the Drawing Room and froze in his tracks. Sitting on the black leather couch on the far side of the room with Lizzie was Lukas, and they were talking and laughing.

Lizzie turned, and her face lit up with excitement when she saw him. "Ciel!" she screamed happily in her streaky, high-pitched, excited voice. "You're home!"

He had never been more speechless. Then quickly found his voice. "Lukas, where did you go?"

Lukas stood proper in the presence of a woman as Lizzie jumped up and ran towards Ciel, cradling her arm in his, nuzzling up against him like the couple they were. Ciel didn't like public affections like this from Lizzie and felt embarrassed, even in front of his own brother.

Lukas merely smiled. "You make a good couple, brother. And you're blushing."

"Lizzie, please stop. Not now."

She pouted. "But you never seem to have any time for me."

"Lukas, where did you go?" Ciel repeated the question.

"Into town. I had some thinking to do, and I wanted to follow up on some leads on the counterfeit goods' problem you have been having. I spoke to the Undertaker. He had some very interesting things to say. I met Lizzie in town and she offered me a ride home. We've been talking for hours. She has lots to say."

"Indeed," Ciel said, not feeling at all at ease. And Lizzie's affection continued. "Lizzie, please. I have some things to discuss with my brother alone. Can you please wait outside for a few minutes. This is important."

Lizzie frowned. "Aren't I important? Spend some time with me, Ciel."

Lukas put up a hand. "Please, you two should spend some quality time together. I will leave you two alone."

"No!" Ciel said strongly. "No, please," his voice normal again. "I need to speak with you. It's really quite urgent."

"None of us is going anywhere, it can wait. I will step outside. You mustn't deny a lady's request, dear brother. People will talk and frown." Lukas put a hand on Lizzie's chin, smiling. His smile seemed to brighten Lizzie's expression. "Cheer up, my lady. Your knight in shining armor is here."

Lukas produced a crooked smile at Ciel, and then walked away, towards the door.

Ciel watched his brother leave. He had a swagger about him now, and Ciel sensed something different, a new confidence perhaps. But at the moment, he had an over-affectionate fiancée to contend with.

* * *

Lukas closed the door and met Tanaka in the hall.

"They really do make a wonderful couple," he said.

"They do indeed, sir," Tanaka said.

Lukas met Tanaka's gaze, and a glint from the old man's eye, almost like a tear, told him that he knew. Lukas hadn't had time with the old man before with Lizzie, but now that they were alone, it only took an exchanged glance between them to tell the elderly butler everything. That his memory had returned.

He nodded, smiling. "Welcome back, my lord," without actually saying it.

"Thank you, Tanaka. I feel invigorated. Like a new man."

"Indeed."

Lukas snapped his attention to the new voice, and Sebastian appeared to walk into view from a darkly, dimmed lightened portion of the long hallway adjacent the Drawing Room, as if he emerged directly from a sinister darkness. Being a demon, perhaps that is exactly what he intended.

One of the light's mounted on the wall flickered and switched back on fully when Sebastian came into view full. "I really must have that fixed," Sebastian said, gazing back briefly, as if playing to the illusion that it was only a short circuit. He turned back to Lukas. "Welcome back, Master Lukas. We were worried something had happened to you."

"Nothing sinister, I assure you."

Sebastian cocked his head slightly and narrowed his eyes. Then smiled. "Of course." He turned to Tanaka. "Please have the cook prepare something light for tonight and have the maid prepare the visitor's quarters'. I believe Lady Elizabeth, her maid, and her carriage driver will be spending the night. I have already arranged accommodations for the horses and carriage in the stables. A terrible storm is coming."

Tanaka nodded. "I will see to it. Then I will retire for the night." He left.

"I am pleased you are back with us, my lord. You had your brother in quite a stir. I told you that I would protect you from your enemies. There was no reason to run away."

"Run away? You're mistake, Sebastian. Do not presume things. As I told my brother, I checked on a few leads in town about those who might be involved in counterfeit rings. You know he has been having a devil of a time with fake goods from _Fantom Co. _showing up on the black market."

Sebastian blinked, somewhat taken aback. "Yes, he has."

"And the most mass produced counterfeit item is Bitter Rabbit." It was a rabbit made in a multitude of colors with floppy ears and an eye patch over its left eye. "It also just happens to be my brother's most successful product and toy, sent to hundreds of different markets around the world. I have learned that a gang is running out of old London in the warehouse district making this toy with help from Chinese dissident workers. We must inform Scotland Yard as soon as possible before they relocate."

Lukas didn't know if it were true, but Sebastian seemed to buy the plausible lie.

Sebastian nodded. "I will inform them myself. I am sure your brother will appreciate this."

"I hope so. The Undertaker would not give up the information without a really good joke. He is a brokerage of so much information, wouldn't you agree? I hear that Ciel has come to him from time-to-time to ask of information on a variety of subjects as he is so verse on near everything."

Sebastian was straight-faced. "Indeed he has," he said, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Do you wish to return the pistol, sir?" Sebastian extended a hand. "Do you still have it? It's a family heirloom."

"I wish to hang onto it for a while longer. And am I not family?"

"Of course you are. I meant no disrespect, my lord."

"See it doesn't happen again."

Sebastian bowed, and Lukas went to turn away.

"May I say, you appear to have a new aura of confidence about you, sir."

Lukas didn't turn around, but he suddenly felt a chill in the air. "Really? How so?"

"Merely an observation, sir. You seem different from the boy I spoke to last night. More self-assured, and less fretted about what happened between you and your brother at the duel."

"My brother is thick-skinned, I knew he would not hold a grudge. But I left for selfless reasons, nothing more." He feared his tone may have sounded too confident and even a little bitter, so he turned and smiled. "Ciel and I will work things out. We have been seven years apart and many things have happened in that time. With your help, I am sure we will become one big, happy family, and the pride of the house of Phantomhive. He seems to look up to you for guidance, like a father-figure."

"I am merely a butler, sir."

"Of course you are." Knowing it was a lie. "Please have more tea brought to the Drawing Room. I will be returning here with Lady Elizabeth and my brother. Make it Earl Grey."

Sebastian curled an arm across his chest and bowed. "It will be done, my lord."

As Sebastian turned and disappeared down the hall like he had arrived to commence his duties, vanishing back into the darkness when the wall mounted light winked out again - short-circuit? - Lukas gazed deeply after him. He could almost feel the demon's presence still watching him from the shadows.

Had the demon seen through his façade? Did Sebastian know his amnesia was lifted? Lukas knew he could trust Tanaka, but with Sebastian's powers, it would not be long for his lie to be found out.

It was time to act.

He returned to the Drawing Room, and halted surprised when he saw Ciel and Lady Elizabeth having a quiet conversion together on the black leather couch.

In truth, he knew their relationship was a farce. Ciel was only focused on revenge, and once he had it on everyone who did his family wrong, he would die. Sebastian would devour his soul. There was no time for love in his life and even Ciel knew this. But the longer he delayed, the longer the demon went hungry. If he only knew the full-extent of what happened that night their parents died, Ciel would be absolutely enraged.

But he didn't care about his brother, what was important was his own revenge.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said with a smile. "I just asked Sebastian to bring us some more tea."

Ciel nodded, but he looked distracted, as if he was attempting very hard not to listen to Lizzie's babbling.

"It will appear Lady Elizabeth and her companions will be spending the night. Sebastian says there is a storm coming and it would be unwise for them to leave now. Mey-Rin is preparing guest quarters."

Lizzie shouted with glee and hugged Ciel. Ciel cringed, Lizzie obviously squeezing too tight. "Isn't this great, Ciel? We get to spend the night together!"

"In separate rooms," he said straightly.

Lizzie looked at him strangely. "Of course. It would be improper for a young lady to share a bed with her fiancée before they are married. Ciel, you wound me…"

Lukas reached behind him...

Lizzie's voice trailed off as she looked past Ciel shockingly at him, her eyes wide, her mouth open in a silent gasp. And Lukas smiled at her smugly.

Ciel turned and his eyes widened with shock as well. He jumped to his feet, shielding Lizzie from the pistol that was now pointed at them.

"Lukas! What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded.

"Judgment day, brother. And this time, _omnes mala ferent_. Latin for _everyone will suffer _for what our parents have wrought upon this cursed house!"

**To be continued…**


	25. Betrayals

**CHAPTER 24 - "BETRAYALS"**

For the first that he could remember Ciel Phantomhive felt genuinely alarmed, and even a little dumbfounded, and _even_ a little angry at himself for not expecting a betrayal like this. But he had wondered when Lukas's amnesia lifted what would he be like? And apparently this was his answer.

Sebastian wasn't the only trailer as he stared across the room at the muzzle of the pistol his brother was pointing at him, threatening to kill him. And his demon _protector_ was no where in sight.

But he wasn't worried in the slightest, and with one call his demon butler would come to his aid. He had come in every other instance when summoned.

Sebastian had saved him when he was caged at Vincount of Druitt's mansion, showcased to masked masses, and prepared to be auctioned off when he pretended to be a girl to lure Vincount out when _he_ was thought to be Jack the Ripper. The man _was_ a criminal in his own rite, just not the serial killer of White Chapel. Ciel had also been saved by Sebastian when Grell Sutcliff, a grim reaper masquerading as an inept butler, threatened to kill him after it was learned his own aunt was in fact the killer.

And there were countless other times too.

But what did Lukas mean by "Judgment day"?

"Explain yourself!" Ciel demanded. "And put that pistol down! You're scaring Elizabeth!"

Suddenly there was a heavy thud on the floor and Ciel looked around to find Lizzie laying at his feet unconscious. He turned, knelt down, and cradled her in his arms. "Lizzie? Wake up, Lizzie!" He felt her neck for vitals and luckly she was still breathing. Had she fainted?

"She'll be fine, brother. I slipped a sleeping potion into her last cup of tea. It was time released."

Ciel turned back to his brother, his teeth gritted with anger. The pistol followed him closely. He stood up and faced Lukas.

He was afraid of this. It was obvious Lukas had regained his memory and it had changed him. The confidence he had seen in Lukas earlier; the amnesia had been lifted even then. Did something happen when he visited the Undertaker? Did he tell Lukas something that opened his mind to make him remember certain things, even the programming by the Inner Circle to kill him and assume sole heir of the Phantomhive lineage? Even after all these years, it would seem that the Inner Circle would win after all.

"Why?" he simply asked.

"Why? Revenge! It is the truth in this uncaring world we live in. The very path you indeed have chosen to wrought against those who did you wrong. The Inner Circle, Bryon Kelvin, and anyone else. Tell me _dear _brother about the callous, heartless bastard that dared call himself our father! Hmm? Did you truly know him or have you been carrying a pre-conceived, puppy-dog notion of who you thought he was?"

Ciel sneered. "You dare insult our father? Explain your actions this instant, Lukas! Or so help you - "

"Oh what? You will bark for your dog to come rescue you? You truly do have one hell of a butler."

Ciel frowned but eyed Lukas carefully. "What are you implying?"

"My mind has been awakened. So many secrets revealed. Truth of it all. Bryon Kelvin may have kidnapped me, lied to father, said I died on the operating table to _correct_ certain deformities on my face, then brainwashed me for sinister purposes, but he is not the true enemy here, there is an even heftier devil. Vincent Phantomhive was Lucifer incarnate. And even two years after his death, he is still wroughting destruction and evil in his wake. And it all started by a selfish desire. The desire of perfection.

"You see, I know the _real_ truth about my "deformity" now. The Undertaker helped open my mind. He cast me to the brick of death and I saw my entire life play before my eyes. All of it. Everything I couldn't remember. The mind doesn't lie. Even if _we_ can't remember, it remembers for us. And not even Tanaka knew the full extent of the sin our father did to me. He was only told what our father wanted him to know. You were always mother and father's favorite. You were their little perfect, angelic boy."

"They loved us both, Lukas," Ciel said, faking sentimentally. "We are twins, now more so than ever. I may not remember what you looked like before, no photographs survived after the mansion burned down, but -"

"Quiet! I am not finished the story."

Ciel's upper lip twitched with annoyance and his right eye narrowed. He crossed his arms across his chest, no longer fretting this fate. He had been involved in so many other confrontations like this that it didn't faze him. The time when he was kidnapped and forcefully tied and beaten by an Italian drug trafficker came to mind. Sebastian had easily penetrated the man's massive defensive perimeter of gunslinging mercenaries and punished him for his transgression. And he was sure the demon was listening somewhere, watching how this played out. "Go on, then. Finish it."

Lukas looked annoyed. "Ever stubborn to the last, brother. But you have a right to hear this story. And after you know the truth about father, you will never appease good notions about him ever again."

"That will weigh on what you say. Continue. Have it out."

Lukas smiled skeptically. "You really don't know? Has that elderly butler been feeding you lies as well?"

"Tanaka is an honest man. He has served my father for most of his life and I respect him. I keep him on because of this, but Sebastian is head butler now."

"You mean that demon masquerading as a butler just to appease your gratitude of revenge?" Ciel's right eye widened with awe. "Yes, brother. I know about Sebastian Michaelis. And how the Inner Circle planned to sacrifice you to summon demonic forces for secrets beyond human comprehension. You were to be a blood sacrifice along with countless other children kidnapped by Bryon Kelvin. But instead, you made a contract with this demon and ordered him to kill everyone in the amphitheatre. You then installed him as you butler in lieu of finding everyone else who did you wrong. And that even meant Bryon Kelvin, who started it all. But you can't find him, can you? That is why Sebastian made the deal with the Fallen Reapers. He plans on giving me over to them and then stealing information of his own from Mathu Kelvin of his uncle's whereabouts, to murder him, and then devour your soul. But that is where he is mistaken. There were more involved that night when our parents died than you know."

"Who?" Ciel demanded angrily.

"Even I don't know everyone, but I do know Bryon Kelvin was not the only one responsible for our parents' deaths. He was but a pawn himself, controlling puppets, as in the children he brainwashed and ordered to do unspeakable things. There were a higher men than even him and I am not speaking about the Inner Circle. They were but a lower tier in the so-called Dante's Infernal I spent the last seven years of my life experiencing.

"After my face was carved up and made to look like yours, I was trained as an assassin and sent on missions by 'father' - Bryon Kelvin - to murder members of our father's secret sect of aristocrats. I killed all but one. And you know who. You spoke to him this morning while searching for me."

Ciel reached into his pocket and brought out the leg stocking. Lukas was not wearing the other one, wearing only britches that exposed his knees and leg straps that held up his socks. He had probably originally wore the leg stockings for the night cold when he left during the night. "I knew you were there. But I did not tell Sebastian. You heard us?"

"I even saw you, watching _you _through a peephole in the wall I was hiding in, in a secret wall, as you snooped around the backroom, and while your butler told that _lame_ joke."

Ciel nodded. "It was pretty awful. I did not find it laughable."

"I don't understand why the Undertaker enjoys that crass humor."

They both struggled their shoulders.

"To each his own, but let us return to the original story," Ciel said. "You mentioned deceit by the hand of our father towards you? I was told by Tanaka I was taken to a Medium and my memory erased of you. I was very distraught by your death that I would not stop crying. I was only five years old at the time."

"That is where our father's good nature ends. What I learned is when since you were very young, you had asthma, a trait inherited from mother. She suffered from asthma all her life. But I for some reason did not inherit it. The medicine father and mother gave you seemed to make all your pain go away. Curious, I chose to try some and had a very adverse reaction to it. My face broke out in hives and bumps. What made you better, caused me sickness.

"The doctor I was taken to said I was allergic to the medicine and the symptoms would subside. Unfortunately, the damage had been done, and my face was scarred when blisters broke out in an even worse reaction to it. In the end, my face was deformed. However, that was not the beginning to father's stronger affection of you. While we were twins, fraternal twins, we did not look exactly alike. While you embodied beauty, I embodied ugliness. I had a "plain" face, and the deformity gave father purchase for cosmic surgery to be had upon me. Little did he know about Bryon Kelvin's other affairs."

Ciel recalled Tanaka's story of his parent's on one of their missions to catch the mastermind behind the children kidnappings; it was when they first learned of the children's brainwashing. He told Lukas everything he could remember of the story, even the involvement by the twins Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt. But they never did learn the identity of who was behind the children kidnappings. And now Lukas had filled in more of the story. The reason why he had been kidnapped. For blood sacrifice. Children were pure. And to sacrifice pureness to a demon was as good as gold.

Lukas then explained why Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive were possibly murdered. Simple jealousy by Bryon Kelvin that they would not allow Bryon Kelvin to be a member of their elite aristocrat sect.

"So our suffering it all father's fault!" Lukas accused. "If he were not so conceited, our family would still be complete! The so-called noble gentleman of London, a wolf in sheep's cloth!"

Ciel gazed hard at Lukas. "We are Phantomhive's, we bow down to no man. If we are done wrong, we seek retribution in blood." He yanked off the eye-patch covering his left eye. "The covenant with Sebastian I have is my way of retaliating against those who dare oppose me. And I seek redemption upon those who murdered mother and father, and I will not stop until all those involved in their murder are put to death!"

Ciel saw Lukas's stunned reaction as he felt his covenanted eye glow hot with hatred.

He continued. "We are of the same coin. You have sought revenge against me for father's suffering he wrought upon you, so does my blood thirst for revenge against those to tried to kill me. And you will not stop me."

"Then you are a fool."

"The only fool is you for thinking you could threaten me with that pistol." Ciel reached behind him and whipped out its twin and pointed it at his brother. And it was loaded. Lukas blinked stunned. "When Tanaka told me one of the pistols had been taken, it didn't take a scientist to figure out who. In foresight, I took the other one for protection in my own rite. Yt appears my assumption was warranted."

"So what now? We both are pointing loaded pistols at the other. Why not just kill ourselves and let the suffering end?"

"Because that would be too easy," Ciel said. "And I would highly doubt someone would allow my death by another." He chinned behind Lukas, and Lukas turned to see Sebastian standing behind him. The demon smiled. "In fact, I was never in any danger from the start."

Lukas backed afar, swinging his pistol from Sebastian to Ciel. Then his back hit a wall. "Don't come any closer!" he demanded of Sebastian. "I swear, I will kill him! The son of Vincent Phantomhive must pay for the sins of the father!"

Ciel kept his pistol on Lukas, as his brother's pistol again focused on him.

"But you are also a son of Vincent Phantomhive," Sebastian said.

"I know longer consider myself his son, not after what he did to me!"

"Stop whining!" Ciel said. "We have all suffered. Others more so. Let me tell you a little secret. When I was brought to die at the hands of the Inner Circle, they branded me with the Mark of the Beast." He kept the pistol posed on Lukas while he lifted up his shirt, and turned slightly to show a brand burnt into the left of his back. Then dropped his shirt. "Like a stupid cow, they burned my flesh with this emblem. In hindsight, it was my saving grace. For without it, Sebastian would not have been drawn to me and the contract made. Everyone else, including the other children who were in the amphitheatre to be sacrificed to demonic forces, as you say, were all killed that night. I, Ciel Phantomhive, was the sole survivor."

His eye glowed. "So you see, you would not have killed me anyway. But," he lowered his pistol, "let us make anew of things. Let the past be forgotten, and together we can forge a better future together. I have accepted the curse of our family," he kissed his ring on his thumb, a piece of the Hope Diamond inherited from his father, "and it is unavoidable. We are damned notwithstanding our efforts. I embrace all that I am. Can you?"

"I don't trust this demon. He will turn me over to the Fallen Reapers at the slightest moment."

"So the Undertaker told you of the Fallen Reapers as well." Sebastian mused with a hand on his chin.

It was obvious he had been watching and listening to everything being said, Ciel thought.

"I never thought he would," Sebastian continued. "To give privileged information to a human goes against Reaper policy. Nevertheless," he lowered his hand, "this gives purchase to a new plan I have forged. I will not hand Lukas over to these Fallen Reapers as I agreed. Instead, let me offer another solution?"

Sebastian gently took hold of Ciel's hand, noting the Hope Diamond. Ciel looked at him queerly.

"There is an old human saying that I believe has providence here: '_In darkest times, there is always hope if you know where to look_.'" The ring seemed to sparkle with the slightest touch of his hand, as if reacting to his dark, demonic energy. "And in this case, your family curse may be your salvation."

* * *

Mathu Kelvin was feeling restless.

It had only been yesterday that he and the other Fallen Reapers had crossed-purposes with Sebastian Michealis and struck a bargain with the demon to retrieve information from Lukas Phantomhive's mind. The demon had agreed to summon them if and when he found the boy, and if when obtaining the information they needed could spare the boy's life, he would weigh that option.

And he was already wondering if he should've made such a deal and not just go out hunt for the boy himself.

But Sebastian Michaelis's main concern was Ciel Phantomhive and their covenant. The demon only cared about safeguarding his master's soul so it can devoured it later. Lukas Phantomhive, he had said, was truly no use to him, since his soul was "pure". Sebastian Michaelis had been with the Phantomhive family for a little over two years and he had cultivated Ciel Phantomhive's soul to be as dark and sinister as Sebastian. That's what he wanted.

_But I know the truth, Sebastian Michaelis,_ he thought. _I know you want both their souls. You're just like a child, you can not have just one cookie from the jar. Lukas Phantomhive is not so pure after all and I believe you know this._

He lain on a black couch with his arms behind his head in his uncle's study.

His uncle had vacated his large house in the Brighton countryside for some time and had fired all the servants before moving elsewhere, and Mathu had taken it over, buying it outright from the bank when the deed was about to be foreclosed for non-payment of dues. Where his uncle was now, not even he knew, but one thing he did know for sure was the sick, twisted, perverted old man _was _still alive somewhere and probably playing with his "toys".

He looked towards Savannah, his wife, dressed in a long, golden dress and jewelry fit for a queen. Even Helen of Troy would be jealous of her striking beauty despite in the body of a filthy gypsy. He could see past her façade and gaze deeply at her spirit. It was her spirit that he originally fell in love with when they were both Reapers, almost ten thousand years ago before they _fell_. They had been cast down for abusing their powers in experimenting with humanity at Atlantis. They were scientists, and they wanted to test a hypothesis of how long would it take for humanity to become corrupt with power before they destroyed themselves. In this island continent, the old axiom _power corrupts absolutely _was never more true.

There was another part to their being cast out of "paradise", and that was no Reaper was to have relations with another. It was against policy and would corrupt the very fabric of the reaper code of solitude. But they didn't care. Like power, love conquers all. Reapers were not absolved of having human-like feelings. It was merely frowned upon, and despite several warnings and probations, he could not stop loving her. And because of their constant violation of the rules and interfering with the natural order of things with Atlantis, they had their Reaper licenses stripped and their bodies taken, to wander for all eternality as punishment. His brother was also punished when he began to _rebel_ against the Reaper establishment.

They had floated in a sea of despair and nothingness unable to touch anything or anyone for _eons_, until they heard the calling of Ciel Phantomhive summoning a demon to save his life. The call was so strong that it sent vibrations throughout the spirit realm. And it was at this time they discovered an opportunity to live again. And after the demon murdered all those who attended the demonic sermon in the secret amphitheatre the Inner Circle were using for their gatherings, they stole the bodies of four humans before the Reapers could arrive to retrieve each one of their cinematic records for the Hall of Records.

While he took the body of Mathu Kelvin, and his wife took the body of a gypsy woman who was only there as an observer as a secret lady of one of the I.C. members, his brother took the twins Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt because he had such a massive spirit that it needed two bodies to contain it. Then they slipped away and borrowed the lives of those they had possessed. And they soon realized they also had the experiences, skills and memories of each of their trapped hosts. Their hosts were still alive as well, but pushed down into the depths of darkness in their subconscious, so they would not be any trouble. Once they retrieved their own bodies, the humans could have their own again. Shortly. Until they were killed.

His brother was terribly vexed. Sebastian Michaelis had found a way to defeat him during their battle in the back courtyard of the Phantomhive mansion using the small veils of nitroglycerin against him, burning parts of his hosts' bodies. It had been a distraction to keep the demon at bay while Ciel Phantomhive was confronted and his brother Lukas demanded. With dark magic the healing had begun, but it would't _heal_ his brother's want for vengeance against the crafty demon. And in having a double ego possessing both twins, his anger was twofold. Parts of Bryon Kelvin's house were beyond repair.

Savannah was seated at what was once Bryon Kelvin's desk. It was cleared of everything except for Tarot Cards for which she was reading to predict the future. He didn't quite understand the usage of the cards, but apparently, because of her host, Savannah did know how and she used them quite often.

He lifted himself off the couch and went to her side, looking over her shoulder. There were five cards in an triangle form on the desk in front of her, all varying from spiritual figures to demonic beings and sacred structures. They were just pictures to him, he had no idea what any of them meant. But they seemed to have importance to her, so he humored her interest. "What do they say?"

Savannah was momentarily silent as she read the cards. "They predict a period of confusion and turmoil."

Mathu furrowed his brow, narrowed his eyes, giving glances at each card wondering if he could see the same thing. But the cards apparently only spoke to his wife. "For whom?"

"The cards don't say. They are untelling in this regard." She took another card from the deck and turned it over, and then gasped frightened. The card had a picture of THE TOWER being struck by lightning with two souls jumping for their lives. "An ill-omen!"

"Calm yourself, my dear," he said, taking hold of the card. He quickly examined it. "This is your host's fears you're reacting to. This medieval superstition is nonsense. There is no otherworldly force affecting our fate." He tossed the card down on the desk upside down. "Now what were you doing a reading on?"

"I had asked the cards about Lukas Phantomhive, whether we will be successful in our plight."

"Well?"

Savannah shook her head. "I am uncertain now. The Tower card symbolizes ruin and catastrophe."

"What do you mean _now_?"

"I had conducted similar readings of our plight before we confronted Ciel Phantomhive at his home. The cards told of confident tidings. Something has changed since yesterday."

"Lukas Phantomhive is missing. That is something we had not foreseen. What if what you are seeing has to do with Sebastian Michaelis? That demon can not be trusted."

"I do not know. But he has agreed to help us retrieve the boy, correct?"

Mathu turned to look out a large bay window that was behind the desk that showed a grand view of the countryside, and in the distance, the city of the London. He crossed his arms. "He told us what we wanted to hear. He will betray us, like all demons do. They are selfish creatures."

"Then why did we leave?" Sasha Ironstadt started.

"If you knew we would be betrayed?" Samuel finished.

Mathu turned to face the twins. His brother in two bodies. Their faces were partially scarred with burns and they had discarded the white suits for black. "To bide our time, brother. We will let the demon do our work for us, then strike him and the brats down. No one will stop us from getting what we desire!"

"Even a demon can be killed," Savannah said, and the twins agreed.

"Quite right."

Mathu reached into his left vest pocket and pulled out a small blue diamond shard that he balanced in his fore finger and thumb. History told it was part of a thousand or so blue gems that were sold to King Louis XIV in 1672, but this shard was later cut from a specific larger one called the _French Blue_ when it was stolen from France during the French Revolution. Smaller pieces were cut off from this larger diamond as well and given as gifts to family members of a certain family but have been lost to time - except one. The original larger diamond was later returned to France where it was later forged into a priceless necklace named after its owner and now resides in a secure location.

He eyed it preciously as it glinted in the sunlight that basked through the window glass of the bay window. It seemed to speak to him as if it had been vomited from the belly of a demon and was attracted to his own dark energy.

"And the ring Ciel Phantomhive cherishes so much that he wears around his left thumb that he inherited from his dead father, a piece of the Hope Diamond, and this diamond shard I hold in my hand that my host found years ago in a bizarre at an antique dealer also cut from the Hope Diamond, the so-called most cursed diamond in the world, will soon deliver the house of Phantomhive's its more tragic downfall and end."

He smirked. "And once we get what we want, the sons of Vincent Phantomhive will die at the hands of Sebastian Michaelis using these pieces of the Hope Diamond as the catalyst, then he will parish, and not even the fiery depths of Hell will be able to prevent it!"

**To be continued…**


	26. Reunited At Last

**CHAPTER 25 - "REUNITED AT LAST"**

Ciel snapped his hand away from Sebastian. He didn't like the way the demon had uncomfortably touched his ring and him. But he did continue to look at his ring inquisitively, a ring that he had inherited from his father, that contained a piece of the infamous and cursed Hope Diamond, sparkling with blue sapphire intensity. Lukas also looked at it mimicking Ciel's confused expression.

"What do you mean?" Ciel demanded of Sebastian as Lukas lowered his pistol.

"Are you not aware of the true history of the Hope Diamond, my lord? It's a very telling one."

Sebastian spanned out the history foretold of the rumored curse of the Hope Diamond, from its conception to present. From its discovery in a Brazilian mine, to its pass-down to person-to-person, until it was stolen from France and brought to England. He told them each who possessed it didn't necessarily die a horrible death, but did suffer in life to an extent. And the most notable victim of the diamond's curse was a French archduchess later Queen of France named Marie Antoinette who was guillotined in 1793 because she spoke contrary to principles established in the French Revolution. King Louis XVI also suffered the same fate in 1793, and was tried for high treason when he attempted to abolish the long standing monarchy. And even since then, passed down to its many owners, those who possessed it _lived_ a fate worse than death.

"At this time, the diamond is in the possession of Lord Henry Francis Hope, the Eighth Duke of Newcastle," Sebastian explained. "However, rumor has it that over a hundred years ago when the diamond was stolen from France during the French Revolution, shards and even larger pieces were removed from the diamond by a wealthy octogenarian, who gave the pieces to family members as gifts. The Phantomhive family. This can not be substantiated, however." Ciel lifted his hand and they all gazed at the ring. " But I believe it may have some truth to it as this ring _has_ been passed down generations within your family."

"So this piece of the Hope Diamond may been even older than even father believed?" Ciel said. "He told me great-grandfather passed it down him. He never explained why he never gave it to my - _our _- grandfather. But grandfather never fretted about it. In fact, if my memory recalled, he indeed saved the Phantomhive family from almost certain financial ruin after it was learned a secret debt to a foreign nation was unpaid, established by an old ancestor Edward Phantomhive, and ancestors of that nation came demanding payment. The debt was costly. It's still unknown what the debt was about. No records have survived. But it was paid and almost bankrupt our family. And then something _unexplained_ happened from what father told me, not even grandfather could explain it. All the money that was paid to this foreign nation was returned _with_ interest. A clerical error told this nation they owed _us_ and the Phantomhive's rose out of the financial gutters. Coincidentally, all those who were originally involved in this debt in this foreign nation later died under mysterious circumstances."

"They were killed?" Lukas said.

Ciel shrugged. "This 'error' saved our family from abject financial ruin, it matters not how. After, father took over the family when he married mother and the rest is history, as it is said. He established the Phantomhive name as a utilitarian repute with respected businesses through the British Commonwealth, ever building on the family fortune. Second only to his loyalty to the Crown and the Queen's decree as the throne's _unofficial _protector of any threats of her rule. Her royal guard dog; like grandfather before him."

Sebastian mused. "I suspect there is an even greater mystery here. No one returns a large sum of money like that without it being questioned."

"I concur, and it matters not to me, and I don't believe in coincidences," Lukas said. "We may not know about it, but everything happens for a reason. Bryon Kelvin and what he did is proof of this reasoning."

"As I said, it matters not _now_," Ciel agreed. He kissed his ring as if gaining strength from it. "All that need be settled is _this_ moment. I have accepted my fate. And I accept the curse of the Hope Diamond willingly. And willingly gave up my soul to avenge _our _parents' murder. You blame me for what father did to you, but you are just as dimwitted as all those who thought they could outwit me."

"Then you are a fool!" He raised the pistol again, but Sebastian stepped in front of it, shielding Ciel.

"Am I, or has your amnesia been cast upon you once more?" Ciel stepped from behind Sebastian, once again gazing deeply at the muzzle of the pistol his brother held loft at him, but unafraid. "Look around you, dear brother. You are being used in a game where there is no good end for you. Your _programming_ by higher men has taken away much of your life to beg for their sinister deeds done. Father and mother are dead, their aristocrat sect is gone, but enemies to our name are still aloft. You once accused me of relying upon others to do work I should be commencing of my own violation. I ask you now, join me brother, and together we will have our revenge upon everyone who-"

"Stop!" Lukas lowered the pistol and suddenly looked away in shame. "I can not live this lie. It has been eating away at me ever since I learned of it when my memory returned. There is something you must know. I will not drag it out and merely tell you. This has been heavy on my heart."

Lukas looked to Sebastian for a moment as if to _ask_ permission to tell. He had been like a fatherly-figure to Ciel for the past two years since their covenant began and…

"Go on, sir. It is not my place to tell, even though I know." Lukas bewildered, wanted to ask how, but Sebastian said, "I am a demon. I am privy to information of the human world that humans themselves are never fully aware of in their lifetimes. But I believe this should be told, Master Lukas, regardless of the consequences and the anger it may wrought. Your brother has a right to know."

"What is this conspire talk?" Ciel demanded. "What do you two know?"

Lukas sighed and slumped his shoulders. He looked to the floor abashed. "Brother, the night our parents died, I, with other children, under Bryon Kelvin's brainwashing _influence_, set fire to our parent's mansion. We entered the house amass and murdered all the servants except for Tanaka, then set fire to everything. _I_ was also ordered to kill our parents, but someone had gotten to them first."

Lukas looked his brother in the eyes sorrowfully.

Ciel's eyes widened first with complete and utter shock, then with intense hatred. "You?" Teeth grit, he lifted his pistol and pointed it at Lukas's face.

Lukas cringed, but did not abate to the possibility of his own death.

Ciel fired a shot, but _missed_ hitting the wall behind Lukas next to his right ear. He stormed forward and clenched Lukas's shirt in a tight fist and banged him against the wall, banging Lukas's head hard against the wall. But Lukas didn't fight back.

"You killed them! You and that hideous organization! I'll hunt each of those children down in murderous rage! Give me names! I will save you for last, so can watch each of them die a horrible, suffering death! Then I will give you to Sebastian, so he can devour your soul and eat of it for all eternality!" Ciel raised the pistol again, as if to pistol-whip Lukas. "But as of right now, I will give you the beating of your life!"

But Sebastian intervened. He took the pistol away and dragged Ciel back.

"How dare you! Let go of me! You belong to me! I want this traitor dead. You hear me - DEAD!" Ciel pulled away from Sebastian. "Don't you ever touch me like that again!"

"Sir, this is your brother," Sebastian said. "Your flesh and blood."

"No, Sebastian," Lukas said sadly, unable to look Ciel in the eyes, leaning up against the wall. His confidence drained, despondency engulfing his every being. He was a far cry from the Lukas Phantomhive only a day prior. "Let him beat me, I deserve it. It is the honorable thing to do. I have shamed the family."

"You have not," Sebastian said firmly. Lukas lifted his eyes to him in surprise. Ciel was equally taken aback by Sebastian's tone. "You were under the influence of another, you were not in your right mind, Master Lukas. The one thing I dislike about humans is self-pity. Do not blame yourself for another's misdeed."

"I told you never to call him that! I am your master!"

Sebastian gave Ciel a sideways glance. "That is true, sir. But it is his rightful title as it is yours, my lord."

"No, not any longer. I am disowning the Phantomhive name. I am a disgrace."

"You are being too hard on yourself, sir. You are not to blame. Events occurred that were beyond your control and you became a pawn in someone's game of deceit and malice. You are a Phantomhive. No one should ever shirk from their proud name, a name is all telling and creates identity. You and your brother are the last of the Phantomhive proud heritage, it is your birthrite. _Carpe diem_. Seize the day." He extended a hand out to Lukas. Lukas's eyes began to fill with tears. "Avenge the fallen and take back what is yours!"

Lukas took Sebastian's hand, and he lead Lukas to stand next to his brother. Ciel growled under his breath in distain of his brother.

Sebastian smirked. "Well, it would appear you are the same height now," he said. Ciel stood tall and Lukas slumped slightly. During the duel, or just before, it appeared the reverse. But perhaps Lukas may have just been a fraction taller than his brother to begin with.

Lukas sniffed and put his arm across his eyes and then began to cry. Ciel clenched his jaw and was immediately disgusted by his blatant expression of weakness. About to say something to stop it he didn't, and relented when it struck him that his brother was only twelve years old like him and everything he had been involved in must have been so overwhelming that all the sadness and melancholy that he had felt over the last seven years just suddenly hit him. And to act in such a betraying manner such as thing was equally taxing. Ciel had been so filled with hate that it fueled him, keeping him strong. Indeed, apart from their first encounter, he was finally seeing his _real_ brother for the first time.

Sebastian cupped a gloved hand under Lukas's chin and lifted it and Lukas removed his arm from his face, tears streamed down his cheeks, his eyes red. "I am sorry for my deeds," he said, as if pleading for forgiveness.

"Don't fret, sir. After your great ordeal, it only natural to cry." Lukas sniffed, and Sebastian handed him a handkerchief to blow his blow and wipe his face. "But young lords must also be brave to battle on in the face of adversity. There are still many challenges yet to face."

"I concur," Ciel said straightly. "Do you believe that I sit around and cry over the past or wallow in self-pity in how the world has abandoned me. Need I say I don't. Vengeance is my weapon of choice, and it be mine on all those who dare challenge me and the house of Phantomhive."

He raised a hand and slapped Lukas hard across the face.

Sebastian gasped, and Lukas stool stunned and open-mouthed with a hand to his left cheek. But he stopped crying.

"As I said, vengeance will be mine all those who dare challenge _me_…" Then he smiled, a complete turnaround. "That slap is your punishment. Remember it well, dear brother. As Sebastian said, and I concur, you were _not_ in your right mind when you and others set fire to our parents mansion. But that does not abstain you completely."

Lukas blinked, and then nodded.

"Now, help me wake Lizzie," Ciel said. They helped lift her and lay her flat on the couch. "We will recite a story about what she saw and say it was all a game."

"A lie?"

"Phantomhive's don't lie. We protect our best interests."

"I have much to learn from you, brother."

"As I from you, especially about your _secret_ training," Ciel said. "After we send Lizzie on up to her quarters, we will set plans into motion to rid ourselves of these Fallen Reapers, and then plan to hunt down and eliminate the rest of the Inner Circle and Bryon Kelvin."

"The Inner Circle are no longer a problem," Lukas concurred. "The Fallen Reapers have killed them all, according to what the Undertaker told me. He seemed to have some _inside_ information." It was unsure of Ciel knew the Undertaker was a Reaper, but Lukas didn't press it.

Ciel looked to Sebastian, and he nodded, as if _he_ had inside information. And knowing Sebastian, he probably did. It seemed everyone knew more about what was going on than him. He accepted it nonetheless.

"Very well," Ciel said.

As Lizzie was unawakeable at this time due to the sleeping potion Lukas had slipped into her tea, Sebastian took her in his arms and cradled her like a small child. "I shall take her to her assigned quarters and put her to bed. I will inform her maid Paula that she was exhausted and fell asleep."

"Very good," Ciel said. He turned to Lukas, who now stood tall and his eyes had a determined stare. Ciel put a hand on Lukas's shoulder. "Together, we will destroy everyone who wronged us."

"Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!" Lukas declared.

* * *

Three days later, the family portrait with Vincent, Rachel, Ciel and Lukas had finally been completed by the artist and hung on the wall over the main staircase.

The artist was paid a bonus for painting the best likenesses of the boys' parents to a perfected scale. The artist had know the Phantomhive's well and had been commissioned to paint several paintings of them and other family members described that unfortunately all perished in the fire that took the mansion two years prior. The other family portrait that only had Vincent, Rachel and Ciel, and was a reproduction of the original, and was done after Lukas had been declared dead, was sitting in the basement. This painting included everyone, including the family dog, named Sebastian. Which didn't amuse Sebastian, the _butler_.

And it had been updated seven years to the present which included Ciel's eye patch over his right eye, and Lukas's scar, that ran down vertical from two inches on his forehead, through his eyebrow, and over his right eye, reaching two inches down his cheek, that a piece of glass cut deep when the window of his quarters had exploded inwards from an attack by Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt sent by the Inner Circle to retrieve him. It appeared to be permanent, but didn't hinder his vision. And Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive were immortalized as the artist had remembered them, as kind and warm loving parents. A half-truth, but that is what the portrait portrayed.

"A very close likeness, my lord," Sebastian said to Ciel. "The artist did your family justice."

"Indeed. The portrait shows us as the perfect family despite showcasing us in two different life times."

Lukas nodded but sighed melancholy. "It's a shame I do not remember our parents better on a happier note. All that I have is the _truth _from what I saw in my brush with death." He had told them everything the Undertaker had done to help restore his memories.

"Truth is stranger than fiction," Sebastian said, "and sometimes perception is stronger than reality. Perhaps everything you saw _wasn't_ indeed everything you remember, or what you only _thought _you perceived?"

"What do you mean?"

Sebastian mused. "From what I recall reading in medical journals, the human brain is separated into two distinct hemispheres - the left and right cerebral lobes. The left side handles logical thinking and the right deals with imagination, respectfully. In their life time, a person will either develop one lobe superior to the other and will perceive the world differently than a person who undertakes a more creative side." He noted the painting on the wall. "This portrait is a perfect example of a person who uses the right hemisphere more than his left, although both are used. While the artist uses brush strokes to put paint on canvas and imagination to create an image, he must also think about perspective and linear distinction to make it look real. Examples of this can be seen by the Italian Renaissance sculptor and artist Michelangelo and his work in the _Sistine Chapel_, Leonardo Da Vinci and _The Last Supper_, and the Dutch painter Rembrandt and his painting _The Storm on the Sea of Galiee._ Every painting is about angles, perspective and - " Sebastian stopped, blinking confused when he saw both boys looking at him strange. "Did I say something incorrect?"

Lukas turned to Ciel and said, "When did this turn into an art lesson?"

"Indeed," Ciel agreed, putting hands on his hips.

Sebastian grinned thin. "Everyday is a learning experience, my lord's."

"Although, now that I think about it," Lukas said when he looked back at the painting. "I believe the artist may have made your left eye too large." He laughed. "It makes you look like Cyclops."

Ciel frowned. "No, he did not! It's perfectly symmetrical and proportionate to my body, albeit to _your _large nose."

Lukas touched his nose. "My nose is perfect. And if I have a large nose, so do you!"

Voices rose and filled the empty main hall chamber. Sebastian put up his hands, hoping to put an end to what was starting to become another argument. "My lord's, please!"

Lukas shook his head. "Sebastian, do you not know sarcasm when you hear it?"

"Yes, indeed," Ciel agreed. "He can be quite serious at times."

Sebastian eyed Ciel curiously. "My lord, do I detect playfulness from you? An rare oddity indeed."

Ciel cleared his throat and an expression of a serious nature returned to his face. "Sebastian, prepare some tea and bring it to the Drawing Room. We must prepare for war."

Sebastian bowed. "Yes, my lord."

"Earl Grey," Lukas said, and Ciel agreed.

Ten minutes later, Sebastian poured each of them a cup of tea in the Drawing Room.

Ciel took a sip from his cup as he sat in a high back chair. Lukas said on the couch, also taking a sip. Sebastian stood next to the serving table and tray.

"Very nice tea, Sebastian, thank you," Lukas said.

Ciel nodded. "We need to discuss things," he said. "We need to plan our attack for the arrival of the Fallen Reapers. They are expecting your summons, Sebastian, and I wager they are getting restless."

"Our plan of attack must be prompt," Lukas said. "We must strike at their weaknesses!"

"And fortify _our _defenses," Ciel agreed. "And _we_ must prey on them like predators, strike in the jugular."

"But lest us remember," Sebastian said, "despite possessing human bodies, theses are supernatural beings; they are extremely ruthless, merciless, and wield dark powers - especially Mathu Kelvin. Conventional methods will _not_ be enough to defeat them, so alterative options _will _need to be considered."

Lukas looked at Sebastian. "Three days ago you told us the history of the Hope Diamond and an alterative plan to handing me over to the Fallen Reapers, that was never fully explained…"

"I will explain everything now." On a lower shelf in the serving tray, he pulled out a black, untitled book. "I may regret this someday, but at the moment it is necessary. Every spirit must adhere to a set of chants or spells cast, whether they be demon or otherwise. There are laws even in the underworld. Once certain chants or spells are cast and a spirit or otherworldly being is trapped within a spirit barrier, they can not escape unless the chant or spell is un-cast. This book contains spells and chants that may be helpful to us."

"Are you planning on trapping the Fallen Reapers in spiritual barriers?" Lukas asked.

"No, they will be too smart for that."

"Then what good is it?" Ciel wondered.

"This is for you, my lord. To protect _yourselves_ from them."

"Are you daft? We're humans. How can those _spells_ work on the living?"

Lukas sighed. "I think I understand, Sebastian." He looked to Ciel, settling his cup of tea in his lap. "These spells will work for you, Ciel. You have a contract with Sebastian, because you and he are bonded with a spiritual covenant." He looked back at Sebastian. "On the other hand, I am without."

"You perceive the situation correctly, my lord," Sebastian said.

"Are you saying Lukas must broker a covenant with you for these spells to work for him?"

"Yes, my lord. In order for a _protection_ barrier to be erected around you, a soul must be added partially to the spirit world, my world. And with a covenant with me, you _both_ will be able to seek shelter this way."

Lukas mused quietly, then said, "They will kill me, correct?"

Sebastian nodded. "I believe when they finally get what they want, they will kill both of you. They will no longer be under the Reaper creed and will still have their dark Reaper powers. They will set the world ablaze starting with London. And London will burn once more like it did over two hundred years prior."

Both boys mused on this quietly for a moment, remembering that event from the history they learned of it.

The Great Fire of London in 1666 destroyed most of medieval London that started by a simple bakery fire gone a rye. It spread quickly and destroyed over 70,000 homes and displaced even more inhabitants of the city. While the death toll was relatively small for such a large event, it birthed new technologies in fire fighting and demolition methods. But economically, the city was devastated and King Charles II strongly urged resettlement. But its people were strong and rebuilt. And London became a proud nation once more.

"Can you stop them?" Ciel said.

"I don't know," Sebastian said. "And we will not have aid from the Reapers: Grell Sutcliff or Ronald Knox. They have already told us they will _not_ get involved in affairs not their own. We will be alone in this; against these dangerous creatures. And I feel they hold even darker powers than even I can perceive."

Both boys stared down into their tea cups thoughtfully. There was a long silence.

"But there is hope, my lord's," Sebastian said, breaking it, and smiled thin. "Your ring, Master Ciel. It holds powers in its own rite. It's cursed, witnessing the deaths of many of its owners, but the dark energy that resides in it can be used as a weapon and amplified a thousand fold if correctly attuned."

"How?" Ciel said, looking at the ring around his left thumb.

"Unbelieving as it may seem, it thrives on dark emotions - that is its curse. The blue diamond that it was shard from - the Hope Diamond or the _French Blue _- was part of a collection of gems removed without consent from their resting place in Brazil by an explorer who did not pay homage by sacred tribal law to the mountain where _gods_ supposedly created the naturally grown gems, or so gathered history tells... Those who possess any of these gems, especially the Hope Diamond, are subjected to unforeseen dark forces that plague them for their entire lives, willingly or not."

Ciel and Lukas looked at each other befuddled, then looked back at Sebastian. "Then how do we use it to our advantage?" Ciel asked.

"It must be used in collaboration with my dark energy to amplify its own power. And yours, as well."

"Which means a covenant with you must be made," Lukas said, "so the ring can be powered two-fold. You will use our energy with yours to…do what exactly?"

"That has yet to be determined. But once and _if_ the Fallen Reapers are beaten, the covenant between you and I, Master Lukas, will be dissolved."

Ciel turned sharply. "What do you mean?"

"It will be a temporary covenant. I do not want to devour a soul that contrives with selflessness; _pure_ souls are tasteless." Sebastian eyed Ciel, his eyes glowered. "Darkness is all I crave."

Lukas laughed. "I wouldn't consider my soul _tasteless_. My soul is definitely not _pure_, it is filled with sin and is saturated with the blood of many I have slaughtered under Bryon Kelvin's influence."

"Indeed. But be reminded, the horrendous acts of murder you committed were _not_ of your own violation. You were controlled by a higher power. Hence, your soul is 'tasteless', to _me_."

"Fair enough," Ciel agreed, as if the issue had been settled.

"No!" Lukas said strongly. "If we to agree to the covenant, Sebastian, then I will share my brother's fate." He grinned, sipping his tea. "'All for one, and one for all', to quote a famous author." He settled his cup in his lap, and looked at his brother with an agreeing smile. "Together we will annihilate our enemies and hurl them into the depths of darkness. Then we, too, us two, the last of the Phantomhive name, will face the final curtain…"

**To be continued…**


	27. Enemy At The Gates Part 1

**CHAPTER 26 - "ENEMY AT THE GATES PART 1"**

Two mornings hence, they stood together in the front courtyard of the mansion - Ciel, Lukas and Sebastian. Sebastian had sent the other servants on an "important" errand into town and he said it _needed_ all four of them: Finny, Mey-Rin, Bardroy and Tanaka to accomplish it. But it was merely a rouse to have them out of the way of what would be a fight to a possible end - and Sebastian was the only servant who knew "the whole story". The Fallen Reapers were a dangerous bunch and they was unconcern what was to occur.

Both Ciel and Lukas held a pistol in hand. Even though it may not be of any use in battle, it made them feel safer knowing they had some form of defensive if needed. But one lead ball and ground powder was hardly a weapon against supernatural dark powers for which the Fallen Reapers' possessed, and Sebastian was really their only defense against these menacing beings.

Things had been discussed and plans concocted before hand, but the odds were adversely stacked against them - especially two humans and one demon.

Ciel kissed his ring, a piece of the cursed Hope Diamond, for luck. "Call them, Sebastian," he said. "Let us end this _farce_. I have a business to run and a brother to fully re-acquaint myself with."

Lukas nodded, agreeing. They had spoken much in the last two days, but it was mostly about plans to combat the Fallen Reapers. Family and history had been put aside for this fight or possibly last stand.

"My pleasure, sir," Sebastian said. "Now, are you prepared?" He directed the question more so to Lukas, giving him a sideways glance.

Ciel raised his pistol and cocked the flint-lock; Lukas did as well.

Lukas met Sebastian's sideway glance. This was more Lukas's fight, especially after everything he had gone through. It was felt if the Fallen Reapers could be defeated, a chapter in his life would be complete. For if it wasn't for these Fallen Reapers who murdered the remaining members of the Inner Circle, he might still be under their power and may have murdered his brother, or Sebastian may have killed him for trying. In a way the Fallen Reapers did both he and Ciel a favor. But now the Fallen Reapers were the blockage that they had to break through.

"Ready," Lukas said, as if speaking for but himself and Ciel. "Let them come! _Finis prope est_!"

"Quite right," Ciel said approvingly. "The end is near. _Les libéraux les détruiront tous_!"

Ciel gave Lukas a quick sideways glance, grinned, and Lukas chuckled. "Destroy them all. Yes, indeed."

Sebastian detected a little bit of rivalry between the brothers as they spoke both Latin and French to the other. Sebastian had taught Ciel both Latin and French, but Lukas must have been taught both languages by another educator, possibly associated with Bryon Kelvin. "Then let the _terminus_ - _c'est la fin_… " - making it quite clear that they know that _he_ was the teacher and _not_ the student speaking in both Latin and French to them - "…the end, commence," he said. "I shall summon them now."

With a mere thought, he sent the summons, and welcomed the Fallen Reapers as they appeared in the blink of an eye forty feet in front of them in the courtyard.

They arrived and stood on a gravel area that Finny had been told to caretaker recently. It had been part of a new garden project, Sebastian had told him, and he was told to quickly have to done. Finny had completed it just this morning, working all day yesterday and late into the evening, even in the dark. It was a large square gravel area covered with white stone, and it was much like the Japanese stone garden that Finny had built to replace the garden he had accidentally killed with super strength weed killer only a few months prior, or at least the beginnings of it. The garden had grown back, but now Sebastian had _suddenly _issued this new project for a little variety to spruce things up, only that the work had to be completed in two days. Finny didn't question it, he enjoyed working outdoors. It looked more like the flooring of something else, however, and incomplete project, but Sebastian said it was all that was needed for now. It was for this in part that he had sent the rest of the staff into town to purchase other items wanted, for later.

The grounded beneath Mathu Kelvin's feet crushed as he took a few steps forward. He and the others eyed the entire large square of white stone all around them. It looked like something unfinished, but the dimensions were so perfectly symmetrical. He brushed some of the stone away from the ground with a foot, but there was nothing underneath but dirt.

"Did we interrupt a new construction project?" he said, gesturing to the stone.

"Quite true," Sebastian lied. "We are building a stone garden."

Mathu cocked his head slightly, smirking skeptically. "Do you really think me stupid, demon?" Mathu walked off the white stone and passed through an invisible spiritual barrier that seemed to exhibit momentary sparks of electricity. The others passed through it as well onto normal ground. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a chain with a two-dimensional triangle on it, so did the others. "You must take me for a fool. I knew that you would try something this obvious."

"They have Triads?" Lukas was shocked. Sebastian gave him a questioning look. "They are instruments that allow a spiritual being to pass through _any_ barrier. Only Reapers are supposed to have them." He took out his own, hanging around his neck. "The Undertaker gave me this, he said I may need it."

"Ah, the _Undertaker._ How is that _old man_? Still catering to the humanity's finality? After we are done here, let us pay a visit to him and instruct him on his place, shall we?" His fellow Fallen Reapers agreed.

"This is unexpected, but not surprising," Sebastian said to the boys. "How very posh, dressed in black now, I see, white is very unbecoming of a Reaper," he mocked the twins. "Ah, and your burns are healed, and so quickly too."

Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt snarled in unison expressing their deep hatred for the demon. Their burns were healed from their encounter with Sebastian Michaelis at the mansion days prior when they attempted to _distract_ him with small veils of nitroglycerin. The demon managed to turn the tables and used their own weapons against them burning them severely and dark magic had healed them; everything but their pride.

Mathu put up a hand stopping them from any onslaught. "You know why we are here. You summoned us and I can see the boy. Give him to us, so we can extract what we want from his brain. _Then_ we will leave you in peace."

"Indeed," Sebastian merely replied. He knew the Fallen Reaper's words were filled with deception. "I did summon you and _we_ have seen what you want. Unfortunately, you are too late. It is gone."

"Gone?" Mathu said disbelievingly. "What do you mean?"

"He means, there is been a change of plans," Lukas spoke up. "The deal you and Sebastian agreed upon for me is rescinded. What you want is no longer available."

"Explain!" Mathu demanded.

"I have removed the information from my young lord's mind. It resides within me now, locked away, and here it will stay," Sebastian clarified.

"Our bodies?"

"Indeed. And may I say, good show. They are a fine improvement on this lot." He eyed the twins. "Save for you two - or shall I say one? But such a massive spirit. Indeed you needed two bodies to hold it."

"Return to us what is ours! Or I will destroy you and this pathetic mansion!" He took out a small black book, on the cover was a demonic symbol. "With this book, I will call upon our _fallen_ brethren and hark the skies with a darkness you have never seen!"

"I am aware of other fallen Reapers like you, but they are empty spirits without bodies; they can neither touch nor interfere with us, so your threat is meaningless."

Mathu gritted his teeth. Sebastian had called his bluff.

Ciel and Lukas laughed, if not forcefully.

Mathu frowned. "What's so funny?"

"It's symbolic really," Sebastian explained. "They are laughing in the face of danger. I know, quite cliché, but it releases tension."

"How childish. And stupid."

"On the contrary, I encourage it. Notwithstanding, they are under my protection." He extended his arms to the two boys on either side of him, who were standing firm and undaunted by the danger they faced. "Notwithstanding the social stigma that a servant can only have one master…" Ciel nodded approvingly to Sebastian when the butler gave him a brief sideways glance. "I am now a butler with _two_ master's."

Ciel ripped off his eye patch exposing the covenant embedded in his right eye and it glowered red. Improper socially in any other circumstance but acceptable in this brief instance, Lukas stuck out his tongue exposing his own covenant and it too glowered with a red intensity. Each covenant was unique in its design catered to the separate contract each boy had with Sebastian.

"You fool!" Mathu shouted in disbelief. "You sold your soul for this demon's protection?"

Lukas smiled slyly. "I assure you, the benefits far out way the negatives. Indeed now, I no longer need to wonder what my future holds. It is quite liberating actually."

"That insufferable brat!" Sasha growled.

"Sebastian will defend each of them with his life now!" Samuel growled.

Mathu again held them back. "We need not worry. Well played, Sebastian." But he smiled amused. "But can you really defend both your master's at once on multiple fronts? Notwithstanding. Watch and learn." He opened his book to a bookmarked page. "I anticipated something like this and prepared accordingly. Even of the underworld, all things must obey the rules set regardless of their station, or whereabouts..."

He began to recite a chant in ancient Latin - and as he spoke it out loud, his words reverberated, as it coming from several different ghostly voices at once and with countless whispers underscoring its power. A strong vortex filled with phantom entities swirled around him and created a heaviness in the surrounding air. He pointed, and sent this phantom power shooting forward forking towards Ciel and Lukas. It hit both boys square in the chest, throwing them back; they hitting the ground hard.

"I may not be able to call upon my fallen brethren to help, but I can seek the power of the unrest of the dead to my beckon command," Mathu corrected Sebastian. "And there is so much power to command!"

Sebastian turned sharply, quickly collecting himself to his masters' side. He knelt between them, passing glances to each. The strike left no visible mark on either boy, but it had been a physical strike. He had neglected to foresee this. The dead has a great deal of power to use; and with countless spirits at unrest - those humans who could not accept their own deaths - their spiritual energies collectively could be used and had indeed been used as a weapon. "My lord's! Are you all right?"

Ciel moaned and felt his chest, then opened his left eye instinctively first because the other eye normally had the eye patch on, then his right.

Sebastian gasped in shock. The covenant was gone from Ciel's right eye. He snapped his head to Lukas, and asked to see his tongue. That covenant was no longer there. Whipping off his gloves, both hands were bare; the covenants of each boy that were placed here had vanished.

"No…this can't be!" he muttered.

"What is it, Sebastian? What has you in a fright?" Ciel asked.

"He's in a fret, boy, because both _his_ covenants are gone," Mathu revealed.

Ciel and Lukas saw the other's covenant were gone. Sebastian knelt staring at his hands disbelieving what had just occurred.

"This is not possible, his dark magic has erased our covenants," Sebastian said disquietingly.

"Indeed Sebastian, even a demon can be neutralized of his powers, and now without the strength of these brats…"

Mathu took out a gun that he had hidden behind his back and fired it at Sebastian's head. The bullet entered from one temple and exited the other, and Sebastian collapsed, his head aghast with the look of death.

"Why did you do that?" Savannah said. "Now we can't retrieve our bodies from his mind?"

"He never had them, my dear, because the brat still does. He never removed anything. Never trust a demon, you recall?" Mathu pointed the gun at Lukas. "Am I correct, boy?"

Lukas gritted his teeth and stared at Mathu Kelvin with hate. He clutched his pistol, but knew it would be no match for a gun that fired multiple shots. "You are correct, Mathu Kelvin," he said unceasingly calm. Suddenly, he pointed the pistal at his own head. "But you will never get what you want!"

Savannah pushed Mathu's gun down, but he brought it back up. "No need for concern, my dear. He won't murder himself. He's bluffing."

"I will do it! I promise!"

"And what will it serve? There is too much bitterness in you to let it all go now. Bryon Kelvin stole you away from your parents and did horrible things to you. Do you really wish to allow him to concede a victory in taking your own life? Your don't matter to him, he has plenty more "toys" to do as he wishes. You are merely _the one _that got away. He'll just send one of his _other_ assassins to hunt you down, so nothing he did can be traced back to him. If you kill yourself, you'll do him a favor. Is _that _what you really want? You mean nothing to him. Just give us what we want, and I assure you, we will let you _live_. Or…" Mathu pointed his gun at Ciel Phantomhive.

Lukas gasped. He looked at the Fallen Reaper with utter contempt, and lowered his gun. "You win. Spare him, and the knowledge I seem to possess in my mind, will be yours."

"How long do you plan on playing dead?" Ciel said nonchalantly to Sebastian.

"Not long, my lord." Sebastian's wounds sealed themselves with rapid efficiency, and he cracked his neck as he stood on his feet. "What a terrible nuisance these new handguns humanity continues to create. They appear to get deadlier with each passing year. He caught me by surprise."

"Well, don't let it happen again."

"Indeed."

Mathu Kelvin looked more annoyed than surprised, but Lukas was dumbstruck.

Sebastian gave him a sweet smile and it seemed to ease him a little. With a whisk of a finger, the bullet that had shot through Sebastian's head rose into the air; it had landed a distance away in the gardens nearer the mansion, and it floated back to him. He pinched it between the forefinger and thumb of his right hand.

"Conventional weapons can not kill me, my lord. Here, a gift." Lukas held out his hand and the bullet dropped into it; he looked worried. "Take heed, Master Lukas." And Lukas nodded.

"Do be more careful where you fire your gun," he turned to Mathu Kelvin, "these are young, impressible children especially at this age. You might court them to violent acts. Monkey see, monkey do."

"Quite facetious," Mathu Kelvin merely remarked. "Do not mock me, demon. I hold very powerful magic. I was once a Reaper and I very powerful one with knowledge of the ages even beyond your comprehension."

"Then why are you not using your gifts for your Kind?"

"Because existence without excitement leads to stagnation and insanity. Several thousand years ago, I conducted an experiment with the islanders of Atlantis. I gave them advanced technology and stood back observing to see how they would evolve with it. At first they prospered, then like all man-kind, they became corrupt, greedy and warlike. And they destroyed themselves. The Reaper elite discovered my interference with them and I was punished. But I didn't _fell_ because of this. I _fell_ because I would not obey one of them most charted rules. I loved another Reaper, and she loved me." He smiled at Savannah, she smiled back. "_No Reaper is to have associations of an intimate kind with another_, the rules say. But we could not stay away from one another. So the Great Council removed our Reaper licenses and cast out bodies from us in punishment for all eternity. My brother," he gestured to the twins, "enraged by out outcast ran amok. He later joined _us_ and we became fallen. But there are others who sympathize with us, and soon they will rise up and band against the establishment. A civil war will erupt. And there will be chaos."

"But that _is_ the jest of it, isn't it?" Sebastian said straightly. "Like humans, you fairly seem to think things our logically. Your brother could have remained with the Reapers and perhaps worked within the system to have your conviction abstained for extenuating circumstances someday, or perhaps, had you put on long-term probation like another Reaper I know. Instead he acted irrationally and ruined any likelihood of your return. Returning you to your bodies will be moot, if you truly think about it. The Great Council will hunt you down and do it once more."

Mathu was silent for a few moments as if _that_ had struck a nerve, then he shook his head. "We will be ready for them. Your psychology tricks won't work on me, Michaelis. Do not insult me."

Sebastian smirked. "Perhaps not. But I am correct in one thing. Like you, humans are quite irrational creatures. They do the most unpredictable things when faced with their own mortality."

And Ciel and Lukas closed their eyes and both began to _taught_ prayer in unison:

By your grace, grant me, I pray to thee the power to conceive in my mind and to execute that which I desire, to which end I would attain by thy help. I entreat thee to inspire before me that you may give me truth and faithfulness, so that I may accomplish my desired end. This I respectfully and humbly ask in your name, O Mighty Lord….

And they spoke Sebastian Michael's real demon name!

And the covenants returned.

Ciel's right eye glowered and Lukas's tongue shined once more. The covenants on the back of Sebastian's hands returned as well.

He slipped on his white gloves to complete his proper butler attire in the presence of his _two_ masters.

Mathu Kelvin swore. "I-I don't believe it!"

"Believe it," Sebastian remarked causally.

"We want our bodies back! Nothing more! You can have those _damn_ brats!"

"Mind your temper, Mr. Kelvin. There still may be room to bargain."

Mathu Kelvin eyed Sebastian skeptically. "What do _we_ have that _you_ want?"

"Quite simple: your host's souls. It has come to my realization that it may be some time before the contracts with my masters end, as you have just seen, so I am in wanting of a snack to tie me over, so to speak."

"A snack? You would trade the "images" of our bodies for _these_ pathetic human souls?"

"In a matter of speaking, you are correct, in addition to the safety of my lord's, and once a "bargain" is struck, we will both part ways peacefully without _further _incident."

"It's a trick," Savannah quickly said. "He has deceived us once already."

"No trick, my lady, I assure you. I am a demon. Once a "contract" is cast, I am bound by its terms until it is fulfilled to a satisfactory conclusion."

Mathu was once again silent, thinking. "Answer me this, Lukas Phantomhive. Your brother's contract is obvious, but why did you sell your soul to this demon? It could not only have been for your protection?"

"I have my reasons, and I thought I have already stated them," Lukas replied.

Mathu shook his head. "I take heed of my wife's words, demon. Your word is _not_ to be trusted."

"Then we are at a impasse," Sebastian said, shrugging. "Whatever shall be done now?"

"May I make a suggestion?" a new voice entered the fray.

All looked towards it, where Grell Sutcliff and Ronald Knox had made a sudden appearance beyond the white square of stones. The voice belonged to Grell. Knox warned him not to get involved, but Grell ignored him.

"Why not have a duel?" he suggested.

"A duel?" Ciel Phantomhive said. "What a stupid idea!"

"I agree," Lukas put in. "One is a demon and other a Fallen Reaper -"

"I'm not taking about Ten Paces," Grell said, sounding annoyed. "I'm speaking of a wager."

Mathu Kelvin snapped his attention taut to the Reaper. "A wager? What kind of wager?"

Savannah grabbed her husband's arm and brought his attention to her. "Daring, you're reacting to your host's addiction. You spoke of such to me earlier."

Mathu shrugged her off. "Explain, Reaper." Reverting his full focus back to Grell. His eyes wide with gambling fever.

Knox halted Grell before he said anymore. "Grell, enough! We are not to get involved in their affair."

"I'm not interfering, Knox," Grell said. "I'm merely _offering_ a suggestion here."

"This is not - "

"Be quiet Reaper!" Mathu chided. "Grell Sutcliffe, explain this wager _now_."

Savannah pleaded with Mathu to stop, but he pushed her away and she fell to the ground. Mathu didn't seem concerned for her well-bring when he was possessed by his gambling fever, Sebastian observed. And he applauded Grell for seeking out Mathu Kelvin's weakness. He had a gambling addiction.

"A battle where there is one victor. And the stakes - everything the other side wants," Grell explained. "You choose a champion -"

Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt stepped forward without needing to hear anymore. "We will fight- " and pointed to Sebastian, "-him!"

Sebastian pointed to himself with not unexpected surprise. "Me? Oh my. Crude _mortal_ combat fighting with one's hands? How Presbyterian in its suggestive audacity." Then he grinned. "But I would be at a disadvantage if I accepted?"

"That can be corrected," Mathu Kelvin said. And he reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a blue diamond shard and showcased it between forefinger and thumb. "Do you know what this is?"

Sebastian mused. "If I have to wager a guess, I believe it may be one of a scattered few missing pieces of the Hope Diamond, once cut and given as gifts to a selected few of a certain family."

Mathu looked annoyed, as if a surprise had been spoiled. "You are correct. This piece was found in a jewelry bizarre my host purchased. The merchant didn't realize what he had, but my host did and paid a pentance for it, less than a fraction that it was worth. And its worth is far more than even he could have even _conceived_. It's dark energy speaks to me, much like your master's ring speaks to you. The curse of the Hope Diamond is very real, my dear demon, as if you didn't know, and its powers are far beyond _any_ comprehension. But enough talk, allow me to demonstrate."

He tossed the shard to Sasha, and the twin then outstretched his left arm to clasp the hand of Samuel's outstretched right arm. Mathu began to mouth a chant, reading it from his black book, and suddenly the twins appeared to melt into one another, fusing like some sort of Frankenstein monster, with two conjoined heads, their faces mashed together into one, grotesque-like creature, and their new body grew to enormous proportions with incredible muscle mass, hulking them to the size of a mythological Greek god.

Sebastian stood unabated, but gazed up upon _Ironstadt _as the monster towered above him, and it smiled innately with two mouths and vicious intent.

The ground shook like thunder as _Ironstadt_ took one step forward, slamming his right leg to the ground. Sebastian steadied himself and was immediately reminded of the story of Odysseus and the Cyclops told in the Homeric tale _The Odyssey_, and how the "sailor" faced this godly monster. The end result, how Odysseus won, was the embodiment of truly human ingenuity, fortitude, and even a little artist license.

Sebastian folded his arms incredulously. "How cliché. A big, ugly monster. You used the dark energy of the shard to _grow_ a monstrosity."

"Yes, indeed," Mathu Kelvin said. "I warned you what would happen if you did not give us what we want! And now my brother wishes to return the favor you gave him several days prior."

"When I defeated him?" Sebastian said.

Ironstadt growled angrily from both mouths.

"But you forget the old adage: the bigger they, the harder they fall."

And he stepped back.

Ciel and Lukas stepped forward, aimed their pistols, and fired.

Ironstadt's eyes opened wide in shock they exploded inside his head, blood gusted out like streams of waterfalls. The monster reached to its face and roared in pain.

With spare pacts of gunpowder and lead bullets, Ciel and Lukas began to reload the pistols.

Sebastian then attacked, and jumped, and with a powerful uppercut punch, he sent the grotesque monster flying onto its back. The ground quaked when Ironstadt landed with a heavy thud.

Mathu Kelvin looked on with horror and shock that his brother had been defeated so easy. "No…"

Sebastian dusted off his gloves. "It pays to prepare," he said. "We also anticipated something of this nature."

But then Ironstadt began to raise, his eyes had regenerated quickly with help of Reaper dark magic; his faces' blood streaked with crimson rage.

Mathu Kelvin laughed. "I could not agree more," he said.

Ironstadt rose to his full height, and Sebastian once again looked upon the towering monster.

But this time his immediate thoughts were that the situation was indeed must more grave than he originally surmised. How could he defeat a creature that could almost instantaneously regenerate itself with dark magic, and had his power intensified to immensity with the Hope Diamond curse?

He had discussed using his master's ring in such a way to wield against the Fallen Reapers, it would take the collective energies of both his masters' to add to his supernatural abilities. But he had never imagined this. And it seemed that the Fallen Reapers had thought on a similar note with a shard from the Hope Diamond.

The Fallen Reapers had had outmaneuvered him by their dark-hearted intentions.

But all was not lost, he knew. He would merely need to seek another way to defeat this pseudo god-like monster, if one could be had?

**To be continued…**


	28. Enemy At The Gates Part 2

**CHAPTER 27 - "ENEMY AT THE GATES PART 2"**

William T. Spears, Head of Reaper Affairs, was displeased. Reaper policy stated under no circumstances were employees to get involved in human affairs, even if it concerned human's _possessed_ by Fallen Reapers. But Grell Sutcliff and Ronald Knox were blatantly choosing to defy a direct order from a superior.

Him!

Spears stood in a darkened room looking at the scene that was taking place in the human world through what was called a "Looking Glass Receptacle Ball" or the LGRB or the ball, for short. It was a large spherical crystal device attuned to mental waves situated on a solid stand. Whatever the user wished to see, it was shown, and he often used it to view the happenings of his fellow Reapers while on missions.

Suffice it to all, he was always watching. He was the so-called omni-pseudo Reaper that seemed to know everything that was going on, everywhere at anytime. _But_, it was his job to know.

Standing poised and calm, watching events taking place at the Phantomhive mansion, his eye-in-the-sky view encompassed all visual aspects of the battle between a demon and a grotesque Fallen Reaper mutation, birthed by dark energy from a piece of a cursed piece of human jewelry known as the Hope Diamond.

He was disgruntled that _he_ - of all Reapers - was at a loss on the complete story of this powerful blue gem that was fueled by a "spiritual" power that not even he could explain, however supernatural in making. And it had made a very powerful Fallen Reaper even more dangerous, along with his companions.

Spears knew each of the Fallen Reapers histories and all three of them were a disgrace to the profession. Their crimes were the talk of educational lectures and schooling topics of what "not to do" if you wanted to _be_ a Reaper. They had spent centuries floating aimlessly without mass, it had been their punishment. However two years prior - and he had kept watch of them since then - they had learned to possess human beings, which was a Reaper trait frowned upon, and now they demanded their "original bodies" back, which strangely were to be found in the _unconscious mind_ of Lukas Phantomhive…?

Humans possessed three forms of thought: _the conscious mind _which allowed humans to be fully aware of their thoughts and actions, _the subconscious mind_, which was the subterranean level of the conscious mind where humans dreamed, and _the unconscious mind_, where humans were completely unaware of certain things that had had happened to them or involved them and were completely suppressed from them.

There are two levels to this: First, on a _conscious level,_ where something causes a human such devastating mental anguish that the brain suppresses any remembrance of it; or second, on an _unconscious level_, where something has happened to the human and they are completely unaware something _has _happened, or existed, and it has been purposely suppressed from them by an outside force.

This was the case of Lukas Phantomhive and his memory loss, given to him to hide something from him.

But that was in regards to his memory suppression. When it came to having or the belief that he _had_ the knowledge of the "images" of these Fallen Reapers original bodies, Spears was again at a loss. Again, he disliked not knowing the whole story. Which begged a question: Why only Lukas? Why weren't the Fallen Reapers also after Ciel Phantomhive since they were twin brothers?

Perhaps Mathu Kelvin explained it best: "_Transference"_.

And it may be the reason why at some point in the past seven years, Lukas Phantomhive had come in contract with someone _else_ who had had this knowledge and it was transferred to him by way of chemical transference, through sweat glands or another form of means, and the Fallen Reapers had somehow come across this information that Lukas was now in possession of it and he poised an easy target to acquire it. The human called Bryon Kelvin, Spears thought, or someone who had been associated with or had come in contact with him, then passed _this _knowledge onto Lukas Phantomhive at some point…?

However, it was mere conjecture. Millions of humans come in contact with millions more over their live times, it would be near impossible if not improbable for him to exactly pin point whom the originator of the knowledge had been in the ten thousand years since the Reapers had fallen, and who had had images of their original bodies to begin with. _Or,_ it could have been Vincent Phantomhive, the boy's father along, and the knowledge was given inclusively to Lukas alone…?

But _that_ only pressed more questions. How did the Fallen Reapers find out about their bodies thousands of years later? Unless, and Spears shuttered at the thought, that that there were _indeed_ sympathizers among other Reapers for the Fallen which were rumored to be. And he so loathed the thought of traitors in his midst. He had suspected something of the sort for years, but these traitors were well hidden, masking themselves among the elite, the only Reapers elevated enough to know of these particular Fallen Reapers from history past. They would need to be weeded out and he silently vowed he would.

Another Reaper stepped to his left side to observe the ball.

Spears didn't need to avert his gaze to know who it was, he knew this Reaper by his spiritual aura quite well. The Reaper emanated a very powerful aura, as one of the elite. In the human world, in the city that was London, England, he was also well known, but for an equally important _to them_, if not a lesser profession of the same stature. There he was known for his non de plume "The Undertaker", here, his name was Salem.

"You have some explaining to do, Salem," William worded, with a seriousness that he was renown for.

"As I said to your subordinates in my shop, William, it was my prerogative to reveal the true nature of the situation to the lad of whom he would be facing and who wronged him; preparation is also paramount to survival," the Reaper said in his crackity voice, as he watched the events in the ball. "But they do look like they are having a hard time with these Reapers, even the demon."

William fixed his glasses, slipping them back to the bridge of his nose. "Indeed. Ciel Phantomhive, Lukas Phantomhive, and the demon, are against insurmountable odds _even_ with your help." He then turned to Salem. "But where did _you_ acquire _that_ Triad? I was given to assurances that all of them, save four - the four these Fallen Reapers acquired somewhere - were accounted for by Inventory? Which _means_ the count inputted into the records is wrong and it so displeases me when things go missing."

Salem grinned. "Then I suppose a more thorough inventory is in order, William." He chuckled.

William didn't laugh. Regardless of the missing items, Salem did have authority to take any items from inventory when needed. The fact that he had not recorded a fifth Triad had been taken and was missing stuck in William's craw. Without order there would be chaos. And since he had taken over as Head of Reaper Affairs, there had been unprecedented order. And the fact that Salem was also Book Keeper as well as Head of the Hall of Records also unnerved him. What else under his watch was out of order?

In fact, it fit the Reaper's personality and catered to his interest why Salem spent so much time in the human world. The human world to some was exciting because it was disorderly and unpredictable, and this was what obviously fascinated those who had _fallen_, who had tried to enjoy its pleasures. Repetitiveness was boring, which was the Reaper way. But repetitiveness was order.

Spears had never known a more odd Reaper than Salem, and he wished he never had. "You are utterly fascinated with these creatures, aren't you?" he said, turning back to the ball.

"What's not to be fascinated with? Their unpredictable nature, their illicit behaviors, their uncompromising personalities, or their fragile, emotional nature? All are equally intriguing. I thrive on learning about the psychology of other beings, it helps me understand them better. I enjoy talking with them, to dwell deep into their minds, to learn how them think - and each human and creature is different. None are alike."

William didn't say a word, merely listened. Salem continued. "Take Ciel and Lukas Phantomhive, for instance. They are twins, but they have contrasting personalities, and yet, when they are suddenly free of the demon's covenant, they chose to become imprisoned once more, agreeing like one mind. And they are willing to accept the consequences knowing what it will wrought. Which is ironic, because despite the _notion_ of freedom, no human is truly free; they are subjected to their emotions, enslaved by their wills and ambitions, and those whom they associate with, until the very idea of freedom is merely a word of insignificance and unwanting. They need to feel longing with others, trapped in their 'safe circles of friends', much like the Inner Circle were. And like it or not, these boys _need_ this demon right now."

William nodded slowly. "Grell and Knox are interfering, this is not allowed."

"Let them interfere," Salem said, "they'll do _you_ a favor, or am I assuming too much?" William was straight-faced. "You staged this whole thing from the beginning, William. From the Phantomhive brother's hardships…all the way to their encounter with the Fallen Reapers, carefully crafting things to your wanting, and other things just happened to fall into place _without_ your interference. And now you're betting on a demon to finish the endgame for you, because you failed to capture the Reapers accordingly. After they possessed human hosts, you lost them, and I know you. It irks you when things are don't go to order. They knew how to elude your detection with those Triads, which _someone_ up here gave them."

William remained focused on the LG ball, still straight-faced, but his eye twitched momentarily. Whether Salem was accusing him of some devious act just to find these Fallen Reapers or was just "talking", he didn't like the implications. But said nothing of it in return.

"I received permission," was all he said. "I do not regret the consequences. And Lukas Phantomhive was an acceptable risk, and it appears the efforts have paid off."

"At what cost?" Selam's voice elevated, almost angry. "It cost Lukas seven years of his life, seven years apart from his brother. And what do you say about Bryon Kelvin's crimes against the Phantomhive's?"

"Acceptable losses," William said.

"Even the kid's parents? This was all to redeem _yourself_. These Fallen Reapers were under your watch. The human's have a saying: '_Every action has an equal and opposite reaction_'."

"I had no part in the boys' parents' deaths," William stated flatly. "It was - "

"It doesn't matter who it was, now. What matters is this whole "issue" was brought about by your over-analytical approach to order. You felt _embarrassed_ that you lost track of _these_ Fallen and the High Council - those who oversee that policy is enforced and who rule over all important sociological issues concerning _Reaperdem_ - were starting to blame you for all the trouble it caused, including whispers of sympathizers that friends were being accused of transgressions because they did not fit your "ideal" of Reaper order. These three Fallen Reapers are the only criminals that have eluded your watch. You always pride yourself in keeping track of every important thing, even the spiritual energy of the _Fallen. _And through logic and cunning, you formulated a method to capture them, receiving permission from the High Council, even if it meant 'acceptable losses'." What did it matter if you destroyed human lives in the process?"

William gave Salem a hard stare. "May I remind you that all this is confidential. If you speak of it to anyone, you will be in breach of confidentially and will be stripped of your Reaper license and will no longer be able to visit the humans whom you find so fascinating, despite you being one of the elite. With all due respect, _sir_, I don't care if you outrank me. I am Head of Reaper Affairs, appointed by the council."

Salem nodded slowly. "Indeed. And the High Council knows best," he said, bordering on cynicism. "It is a said situation," he further said, as he watched the ball with William," that the boys will never know the whole truth. Perhaps it's true what some humans are saying: that fate is _not _in your hands and that a higher power is actually dancing you with strings like a marionette_._"

From a certain point of view, William agreed with that.

Spears continued to watch the ball and wondered who would win this battle. The fate of all Reaper kind was with Sebastian Michaelis and these two small boys. If the Fallen Reapers won, their sympathizers would rise up and start a civil war. It was not looking good, and with this monster Ironstadt using the power of the dark energy of the Hope Diamond to fuel his own inner darkness, he was secretly worried.

He gave Salem a sideways glance and the Reaper was grinning at him. He would never say it out loud, and if anyone knew what he was thinking it would destroy his reputation, but for the sake of all Reaper kind, he secretly hoped for the demon to win.

* * *

Holding the horse reigns, Tanaka mused, as he sat on the upper seat, leading the carriage with the other servants in the main cabin across town. Sebastian had sent them all on an errand to collect items for a rock garden Master Ciel wanted, Sebastian had said, suddenly deciding to build one in the front courtyard.

It took Finny two days straight working day and night to fill in a perfect large square of tiny white stones, and Sebastian said it had to be to his exact size dimensions. Finny was happy to do it because he enjoyed working outdoors and the temperature was warm and the atmosphere serene, the grounds lit by moonlight. However, Finny was now dead tired sleeping in the main cabin.

_I am old, but I am no fool_, he thought to himself. He didn't express his theory to the others, but he had reason to believe that they had all been sent away purposely and not to look for items for the rock garden. What the _true_ reason was he was unsure, but Sebastian was the only one overseeing the children at present, and in case of another surprise attack on the mansion, he was the only defending it and the boys, especially from Lukas's enemies.

Sebastian Michaelis, the man who had seemingly come from no-where, was next to masterful in everything he did, and his resume was extensive, butlering for some of the most posh families in England, while still very young. With the amount of experience under his belt, someone of his stature should have been working for the Queen. But Sebastian made the perfect compliment to Master Ciel after his parents' deaths. And Ciel had depended on him for most everything. But there was a drawback, and over the last two years, Ciel had hardened his emotions to the world, and it turned him from a once happy, smiling, shy kid, into an arrogant, unsmiling, but well business-conscious young man. Tanaka knew an uncaring world would do that.

But just recently with the reappearance of his twin, Lukas had started to bring out a side of Ciel that Tanaka had not seen in years. Ciel didn't show many "positive" emotions, but Lukas was unknowingly adding tiny hairline fractures to Ciel's apparently hardboiled shell that he had unconsciously encased himself in when he returned from being tortured and almost killed by the Inner Circle during some sort of sacrificial sermon; the full details of how Ciel escaped he never fully revealed. Tanaka figured it was a difficult subject and the young master didn't want to recall it and tried to shove it down into the deepest fathoms of his mind.

Despite everything he had been through, Lukas was the polar opposite of Ciel in way of personality. But he was also very opinioned and stubborn, much like his father at times. But something happened during the seven years while he was apart from Ciel that made Lukas felt that independency and self-reliance was very important, and he often argued the point to Ciel, that he shouldn't rely on Sebastian for everything.

Ciel just waved him off, and it often ended in a heated argument with Lukas storming off. While Tanaka was glad the boy had strong opinions, he had a short-fuse and was very argumentative, something his father did not possess. He must have picked it from somewhere or someone else, Tanaka theorized.

Lukas had not fully revealed everything from the past seven years to his brother despite having his amnesia lifted with a visit to the Undertaker, whom he said, helped him look deep inside himself through some sort of aroma and incense therapy, to help bring his buried, forgotten _un_conscious-self to the surface. It was said that certain sounds, sights and smells can trigger memories to resurface. Whatever Salem did, he'd have to thank his friend, and once confidant as member of Vincent Phantomhive's secret sect of aristocrats, for his efforts in bringing back Lukas, the young boy, Tanaka had once known, back home.

* * *

The grotesque monster called Ironstadt - a fusion of both twin bodies of Sasha and Samuel, mutated horribly into a single, massive, muscular creature - towered above Sebastian, grinning innately.

Ironstadt slammed his right leg to the ground, quaking the ground beneath Sebastian and the boy's feet. It took all their balance just to stay up right. Ciel and Lukas Phantomhive stayed close to the mansion and let Sebastian handle Ironstadt; there was very little they could do. But they did stand at the ready with now loaded pistols in hand. Ciel wished he had his six-shooter that he had taken with him when he was confronting Jack the Ripper, but it was in need of a repair; the rotator cuff was jammed and would not work.

The stomp had been a fear tactic and Ironstadt thrived on the fear of others. The names of his hosts were notorious throughout the underground as serial killers and they had no allegiance to anyone. Whoever could afford their services, they went with. And that been the beauty of them. They had their enemies, but none had the guts or the want to infuriate their wrath because they would end up dead. And this fueled Ironstadt now. Sebastian Michaelis had defeated them at the mansion, days prior, and their collective anger from that defeat enraged Ironstadt, and with the dark energy from the shard of the Hope Diamond and his regenerative powers in being a former Reaper, his invisibility was assured.

Ironstadt swung a massive closed fist at Sebastian, but the demon easily leapt away. The other arm came swinging from the opposite direction and Sebastian avoided that as well with ease. The monster lumbered, quaking the ground as he tried to follow Sebastian, but there was an obvious disadvantage to Ironstadt's size. Despite being big, he was slow to react.

Sebastian took this into consideration and ventured out in the front monster. Ironstadt tried to grab him with both hands, but Sebastian slipped beneath the monster's legs and came up behind him. Then with a swift, hard kick to his rear, Ironstadt fell to his hands and knees; the ground shaking with the heavy impact. Ironstadt rose to his feet once more, and Sebastian slipped around the monster again and repeated the kick, and Ironstadt once again dropped heavily to the ground.

Sebastian tisked, and dusted dirt off jacket with his gloves that had been kicked up from the fight. He looked back at Ironstadt, facing the monster's massive rear. "Not a pleasant sight, I do say."

Ironstadt roared angrily and stood back up. The monster repeated his previous two attempts to attack Sebastian, and with an elegant cartwheel, Sebastian again moved out of the way of Ironstadt's reach, came around the monster this time, and kicked him a third time in the rear. Ironstadt went down again.

Sebastian sighed. "This is getting tedious," he said. Then looked at Mathu Kelvin who was scowling, watching his brother being treated like some sort of bumbling fool. "Your monster is too slow. It's so hard to find an intelligent monster these days," barbing Ironstadt, dusting off his gloves.

"Sebastian! Stand back!" Ciel demanded, as Ironstadt once again got to his feet. Both he and Lukas aimed their pistols at the monster. A momentary reprieve had come about hitting the creature before, but Sebastian knew due to Ironstadt's regenerative abilities firing at him would be serve no avail.

Ironstadt turned to the boys.

"My lord's, it will be of no -" Sebastian tried to cease them, but Ironstadt stomped a leg to the ground and the impact shook the entire area, forcing both Ciel and Lukas off balance.

Ciel's shot went wide, completely missing Ironstadt.

Lukas hadn't fired, but he did drop to his knees with his pistol still in hand. He took aim at Ironstadt the instant his balance was restored, and - Ironstadt took two steps forward and the direction of Lukas's shot suddenly changed, but it was too late - fired!

Ironstadt froze in his tracks, and the monster's mouth opened in what could only be described as a silent scream, then a low painful groin could be heard, as Lukas's shot had indeed hit the mark, and below the belt - way below the belt. And with a creature that size, it only stood to reason, that everything was equally large. And Ironstadt had moved into the shot unknowingly for Lukas to hit that very spot.

"Oh my," Sebastian voiced, slightly amused and embarrassed for the monster, as Ironstadt instinctively reached down and cupped the area where he had been shot. He may be able to regenerate the area, but the initial pain would stand.

"Sebastian! Just don't stand there! Annihilate him while he's distracted!" Lukas ordered.

Not one to disobey an order, Sebastian nodded. "Of course, my lord," feeling confident. And leapt onto Ironstadt's shoulders, as the pain of the pistol shot still resounded and distracted the monster.

Sebastian situated himself behind Ironstadt's head, removed his gloves, revealing the covenants on the back of each hand, and his sharp, black finger nails, and dug his fingers deep into the sides of Ironstadt's neck. Using his demonic strength with vicious intention, he ripped the monster's head off its shoulders with bloody tendons attached. Blood gusted like a geyser from the massive opened wound, spilling out over the rest of the monster's body, and Sebastian leapt off with head in hand.

He landed safely, and as if speaking jocularly towards Mathu Kelvin, lifting the head in the air, mimicking a an African tribesman who had just cut off the head of a rival warrior, he said, "Heads - I win!"

"Not so fast, Michaelis!" Mathu said with a sinister smile. "Have you forgotten something?"

"If you are referring to your monster's ability to regenerate -"

But Sebastian never got to finish his sentence as two serpent heads suddenly sprang up out of the hole where Ironstadt's head at been with their widen cobra hoods extended and their fangs posed to attack - for which they instantaneously began to attack him with vicious ferocity. Unlike the body of Ironstadt, these heads attacked him with the collective swiftness of one of their snake-like brethren, snapping their jaws and spiting venom.

Sebastian moved quickly, avoiding an attack on two fronts, and the acidic venom that sizzled when it landed on the ground.

He ordered the boys to run away, even though they normally gave the orders to him, but their self-preservation instinct kicked-in, and they did so without hesitation, escaping closer to the mansion, knowing full-well that they would be unable to help the demon against such a inhuman, malevolent creature.

In an effort to distract the creature, or at least one head, so he could attack and attempt to immobile the other, Sebastian threw Ironstadt's head back at one of the snapping cobra heads. The left cobra head snatched it out of the head, and in a surprise move, swallowed it. And suddenly a third head sprang up, and there was now a _trio_ of vicious, snapping cobra heads, all poised for his destruction.

They attacked, snapping at him, spitting venom, and he weaved, bobbed, sidestepped, and leapt in every direction, in an attempt to avoid each venue of their three prong attack.

And that's when it happened.

In focusing on the heads exclusively, he had forgotten about the monster's two massive arms, and he was snatched by the left in mid-air as he made a leapt backwards to avoid the spitting venom of a cobra head. It snapped shut around his body and began to squeeze him tight.

Sebastian attempted to pull the massive hand apart with his arms, but Ironstadt was unexpectedly very strong and the effort was of no avail.

"It appears I may have made a fatal error," he said.

Ironstadt then turned Sebastian sideways and grabbed his feet with his other hand, stretching him across like a piece of corn on the cob exposing his torso while clutching his upper and lower body so the demon could not get escape. And then, much like eating a piece of corn, the three heads ravaged Sebastian, ripping him to shards, eating every morsel, and swallowing him whole without a trace left.

"_BASSIE!_" Grell Sutcliff screamed, and defying orders, leapt towards Ironstadt with his Deathscythe in hand. They were a small pair of scissors that Will, his superior, gave him to replace his one-of-kind built death tool that showed no adverse of malice. It was only part of a punishment that Grell received for his role in the Jack the Ripper case. That, and probation, because he was still a very good Reaper.

Ronald Knox, the second Reaper in attendance, shouted protest - but it fell on deaf ears.

Notwithstanding Grell's charge into battle and bloodlust to injure, maim or kill Ironstradt, the monster paid Grell little interest in his attack and merely swatted the Reaper out of the air like a insignificant black-fly with the back of a massive hand, sending Grell soaring at the speed of a comet into an abandoned near-by field.

"_Grell!_" Knox shouted, seeing a plume of dirt and flora/fauna, even trees, erupt into the air from the Reaper's landing, and then landing back down with thunderous impact. The Reaper was typically a laidback guy, but Knox was not going to let this stand. "Hell! I know I'm gonna regret this!" He "willed" his own personal Deathscythe into existence that he could summon mentally whenever he needed it.

Like Grell's pervious Deathscythe, Knox's was a unique, one-of-a-kind, custom-made "death weapon" and it did not have conventional blade at the end of a long staff like most beginner Reapers normally use. His Deathscythe was bred for devastation and mowed down any enemy it faced. Any enemy he normally faced were typically those spirits that didn't want to "move-on", who were defiant and clung to their human existence, but they were nothing like this guy!

This was new.

He had never encountered anything of this calibre before, and something _still_ living, that had such a _powerful_ dark aura that suffocated anything or anyone susceptible to it. The moment Knox had felt Ironstadt's true power he got a massive chill down his spine.

_This is no time to be afraid_, he told himself, and gripped the handles of his Deathscythe, and switched it on. It erupted sound with a thunderous roar as he turned the multi-level speed reading up to its highest. He pressed forward and leapt through the air onto the giant back of Ironstadt and began to sear skin and tissue off, spilling blood and gore into the air, dropping it, as the multi-purpose, rotating blades within his Deathscthye's housing, ripped the monster's back to shreds with intended wrath and discourse.

He leapt off as Ironstadt roared with incisive pain as pieces of muscle tissue fell off and blood spewed out from its massive body. But Knox knew the monster would soon regenerate itself. And he'd just have to continue his attack and hopefully rip apart Ironstadt enough that there would be nothing left of Ironstadt to regenerate himself with.

"Man, I just know I'm gonna get fired for this," he said, knowing he was blatantly defying Will's orders.

And then revved up his Deathscythe for another attack.

**To be continued…**


	29. Enemy At The Gates Part 3

**CHAPTER 28 - "ENEMY AT THE GATES PART 3"**

Ciel Phantomhive watched as the Reaper called Ronald Knox attacked the monstrous monstrosity Ironstadt repeatedly with his Deathscythe, which by all accounts looked more like it could mow grass than maim and injure. But the shock of what had had happened to Sebastian stabbed at him like a knife in the heart.

He had watched as Ironstadt had suddenly mutated even further when Sebastian had torn the monster's "human" head off, springing three other separate serpentine heads in its wake. Then with a massive hand, it captured Sebastian and devoured him, ripping him to pieces, and swallowing them.

He didn't think it was possible for a demon - and the one who had saved him from death itself at the hands of the Inner Circle - could die! It never even fathomed him that _Sebastian,_ a supernatural entity, could die! He had not only been his butler, but his confidant and his companion, and most of all his savior when he thought the entire world had forsaken him after the deaths of his parents and when he had brought to the Inner Circle to be sacrificed for their evil intentions.

Sebastian had bred him to be strong, taught him the ways of the world, educated him with the dignity and social grace that he would need to live once more, alone, a child among adults. Initially he had felt scared, but with Sebastian, that fear faded, and with him he was never alone. Sebastian had said he would be with him until the end, which meant when everyone whom he sought for transgressions against his family were punished. When that time came, Sebastian would devour his soul.

But now he was gone.

Sebastian had told Lukas after retrieving the bullet Mathu Kelvin had shot him with, that no conventional weapon could kill him. But Ironstadt was not conventional. He was a massive, supernatural entity, with the dark power of a Hope Diamond shard, and fueled by his anger and hatred of his enemies.

And Sebastian had fought valiantly!

Uncharacteristically, Ciel dropped to his knees. "No, he cant be! Sebastian can't be dead!"

Lukas ran to his side. "Brother?"

Ciel shoved him away, and his eyes began to water, yet another uncharacteristic reaction. "_You were suppose to stay with me until the end!_" he shouted loudly. "_SEBASTIAN! YOU LIAR!_"

Lukas knew immediately that Ciel and Sebastian's relationship, as he suspected, ranged to a far deeper level than just butler and master, indeed even the covenant. Ciel had indeed cared for Sebastian deeply and now all the emotion of being abandoned once more spilled out. Ciel had been so strong psychologically when they first "met", but now he was reacting like a normal twelve year old boy when someone he "loved" had been ripped away from him. Sebastian's death was like losing his parents all over again.

"_SEBASTIAN!_" Ciel cried out, his eyes red with crying, his cheeks soaked with tears.

Lukas looked at Ciel's right eye and was taken back. "But, brother - your eye. It still has…"

"Yes, my lord?" a muffled voice sounded from the belly of Ironstadt. His voice seemed to be inhibited inside the monster's stomach, however it was absolutely clear to the both of them, as if their covenants gave each boy a clear mental connection to the demon, even with the Reaper Knox's Deathscythe making so much noise as he attempted to incapacitate the monster.

Ciel's eyes went wide, his mouth agape. He looked at Lukas, then back at the monster. "Sebastian…?"

"I'll be with you in a moment, my lord…" the voice sounded again. "Now, where is it? Ah, there…"

Ronald Knox leapt off the monster and turned off his Deathscythe when Ironstadt stopped fighting against him. Ironstadt seemed more concerned with what was happening inside his body than outside now. Knox's attacks were doing next to nothing anyhow. The giant regenerated almost instantaneously after every cutting of his flesh. And Knox had had been having a difficult time avoiding the snake heads to attack anyway.

A strange gurgling sounded from inside the belly of Ironstadt that seemed the echo the surrounding area, and the monster moaned in great discomfort as his stomach began to distend every so slightly, then more and more, until it was round like a pregnant woman.

And indeed, if Knox was right, the monster was about to give birth - to a 140 pound demon!

Flesh was ripped, cartilage was torn, organs exploded, and bones snapped, as Sebastian burst forth out of Ironstadt's stomach, covered in blood, gore and intestines. He flipped in the air and landed with the grace of an acrobat, although his butler attire was much to be desired. He was completely crimson red.

Sebastian looked himself up and down. "How undignified. But my task was successful."

Ciel got to his feet, quickly rubbing his face clean with a sleeve. "What task?"

Sebastian looked at Ciel and seemed to see the red in his eyes from crying. "Why, my lord. How touching. You really do care-"

"Shut-up!" Ciel snapped. "Now, what task do you speak of that you had _us_ witness such a grotesque display of you being ripped apart and devoured by Ironstadt? Tell me now!"

Sebastian smiled. "Of course." But first he used an internal heat and burnt the blood and remains from Ironstadt off him to restore his proper butler attire appearance until it and him were spotless.

Sebastian opened his right hand and in the palm was the blue gem Ironstadt had used to amplify his dark powers; he presented it to Ciel. Ciel took it in thumb and forefinger of his left hand, gazing at it with wonder. It had the same stunning appearance as the Hope Diamond in his ring, sparkling with the Sun.

"You went inside him _purposely_ to get the shard?" Lukas questioned dumbfounded.

Sebastian nodded. "It was the 'heart' of Ironstadt's power, albeit amplifying his own dark Reaper powers. But I foresee him no longer being a threat. Without it, he is nothing. Literally."

The three looked back at Ironstadt who had not moved. He looked to be a statue, held steady by his massive legs; the only thing holding him up. His three serpentine heads began to droop dead of all life, and soon the grotesque monster as Ironstadt began to lean slowly forward, his great girth forcing him to tip over; his guts blown out. With a thunderous crash, the giant mutant landed dead. The shard removed, his tissue no longer feeding off the dark energy of the Hope Diamond, his body then began to destablize, bubble and melt, until there was nothing left but a dark stain on the ground where he had once been, moisture evaporating into the sky.

Ronald Knox quickly "sucked up" Ironstadt's Reaper soul in his Deathscythe when it tried to escape.

Mathu Kevin shook his head in utter disbelief. "No…No!…No!" he cried out. "_Brother!_"

"One down," Sebastian said. "Two more to go."

* * *

"Well," Salem said, as he watched the LGR ball with William in the dark room. "It appears that we underestimated the demon, hmm? Perhaps it can be done."

William crossed his arms across his chest. "No, Salem. I was not concerned about Ironstadt," William said. "Knox could have handled him on his own. It is Mathu that worries me. He is extremely powerful in his own rite. In fact, his dark powers are immense."

"Worries _you_?" Salem was surprised. "I thought you said - "

William shook his head. "The main reason why I "punished" all those Reapers over the years for which there are now sympathizers for their cause is for the same reason we are witnessing now. They grew too powerful. I was ordered to strip them of their status and concoct a story so others believed they _fell_."

Salem chuckled. "By the High Council, indeed."

"Manipulating the human civilization on the island of Atlantis ten thousand years ago was just the catalyst for this Reaper. He also fell in love with another Reaper, which is forbidden. But he refused to heed to the council to cease their relationship. I was then appointed to strip them both of their Reaper status and send them adrift without body for all eternality, with his brother in tow soon after."

"And other Fallen Reapers? Are they all victims of the High Council's decree?"

William didn't reply, but then said, "I was given orders and I obeyed them." He then gave Salem a sideways glance, after fixing his glasses. "Need I remind you also -"

Salem waved him off. "Yes, yes, this is all confidential."

William returned his gaze to the ball. He knew he could trust Salem, but somehow, he wasn't entirely confident that this information might stay silent forever, and that could be unfortunate for all the entire stability of all _Reaperdem_ under his watch.

He knew that there were eyes and ears everywhere.

* * *

The fury Mathu Kelvin felt engulfed every fiber of his being. He was angry, and more so of himself for wagering on a bet that cost him his brother - to a demon! And now, also, the diamond shard doused with dark cursed energy was in the hands of the Phantomhive brat protected by Sebastian Michaelis.

Savannah could obviously sense his emotions and tried to calm him, but it was not working. He was infuriated, and he grit his teeth unconsciously.

"Husband, let this go," she said. "Your brother is gone, I don't want the same of you."

"My dear," he started, a strange calm overcame him, "do you not have faith in me?"

She looked at him strange. "Of course I do. But what else is there to be done? Your brother was very powerful and Sebastian Michaelis defeated him and now his soul has been captured by the Reaper Knox."

He cupped her chin gently with hand, grinning. "Trust me, my dear. I will not be discredited by a filthy demon. There is still hope."

"We have these bodies, let it be at that."

He looked away from her, towards Michaels. "These bodies will decay in time. Our original bodies have no time limit. I will not leave without acquiring what we have dreamt about for ten thousand years. No matter the cost!"

"No matter the cost? Even your own life? My life?"

"The spirit never dies, merely the body. However, the life force of a spirit can be used to increase another, to give him greater power to destroy his enemies."

Savannah took a step back. "Increase another?"

He snapped a look back at her and grinned innately. Then grabbing her around the neck, he said, "Nothing personal, my dear. I do love you, but I need your power!"

He clutched a hand over her face and Savannah screamed in horrid pain as her spiritual power joined with his, her essence drained like electricity, fueling Mathu with a power beyond his brother's. When Savannah's body cease to be, he threw her down like common trash. He clenched his fists, and he could feel her power emanating with his, generating their love into a greater strength.

"Indeed, love and hate - the two most powerful emotions in existence! I now use them!" His body began to glower with an electrical current, his eyes burning with an internal fire.

"You killed your wife?" Knox asked flabbergasted.

He snapped a look at Knox. "No, she is with me now." He put a hand to his chest. "Forever!" He grinned, showing his teeth, dancing electricity making them glow a bluish hue. "And I will use her Reaper power to destroy you all!"

He flicked a wrist and sent a hot blue lightning bolt from his hand at Knox.

Knox leapt out of the way, but his Deathscythe exploded from the impact. Debris showered everywhere.

"Hey! You know how long it took me to craft that?" Knox protested.

Mathu sent another bolt of lightning towards Knox, but Knox "winked out" of existence.

"Coward!"

He turned his attention back to the Phantomhive mansion and to Sebastian Michaels and the brats. They looked stunned at both his actions and his new power. But he was pleased he had surprised them. "As a wise author once wrote, dear boy…" directing his voice to Sebastian. "'_All good things must come to an end!_' And you, my friend, Michaelis, have reached it! You are not infinite and I will prove it!"

With a sharp snap of each hand, he sent a series of lightning strikes at his enemies.

Sebastian Michaelis grabbed both boys, one under each arm, and ran concentrically around him, staying just slightly ahead to avoid each strike, but Mathu knew the demon had been weakened with the fight with his brother, and it would only be a matter of time before his wrath would hit its mark!

* * *

A lightning strike sizzled the ground at Sebastian's feet just as he took a giant leap to the mansion rooftop with both boys in hand, he thought he had avoided it completely but part of the electricity strike had jumped and numbed his legs, and when he attempted to land safely, his legs gave out from beneath him, and he accidentally let go of the boys when he collapsed. Ciel and Lukas began to roll down the arched roof to the edge on the far side.

"_Masters!_" he called, reaching out to them, narrowly grabbing onto Lukas.

Lukas grabbed the edge of the roof with a hand and snatched onto Ciel when he failed to acquire a hand hold. Ciel dangled over a two story drop with only his brother's loose grip of the roof to keep him from certain death.

"Sebastian!" he demanded.

Sebastian shook off his momentary numbness and used his powers to levitate the boys back onto the roof safely. "I apologize, my lord's," he said. And he explained why. He then looked at the tail of his butler jacket; it had been singed by electricity. "Absolutely dreadful. This was an expensive jacket from _Le Monsieur de Vêtements _in France."

"I'll buy you another one," Ciel said quickly, prone more with concern with the situation they were in rather than fashion at the moment.

"Yes," Lukas concurred. "This is no time to be concerned with proper dress."

"With all due respect, my lord. I am _one hell of a butler _and I should always look the part…"

Sebastian's voice trailed off, as he saw strands of hair from each boy begin to stand straight up in the air. He had learned about this during an international exhibition he and his master attended just a few months back in Glasgow, Scotland on science, art and industry, a celebration of the Industrial Revolution. If enough "charge" is generated in the air with an electrical applied device, a by-product called "static electricity" is made. And if this was occurring…

His eyes widened when a thought suddenly came to mind, and Ciel asked, "What is it, Sebastian? Why are you looking so _frightened_?"

Sebastian snapped his attention around and Mathu Kelvin quickly appeared above the roof top, now completely electrified with strands of electricity dancing all about his outer body. He was no longer a Fallen Reaper possessing a human, he was something new - if it were even possible, and as it appeared it was - electricity incarnate!

"_Michaels!_" Mathu Kelvin's voice seemed to boom amplified by the electricity that now possessed him, his eyes, no longer human, burned with a fire so intense that flame erupted from the eye sockets.

Sebastian wondered why Kelvin's human body didn't erupt into flames with all that electricity coursing through his body, bombarding his tissues with heat, burning his nuclei cells and setting aflame his organs. But it was more than likely due to the Reaper's regenerative powers that promptly healed them.

"This is the end, Michaelis! You and these brats will die!_"_

"I thought you wanted your original body back?" Sebastian said.

"I found a new body - this one! And once I destroy you, I will return to the _Reaperdum_, and all those who harkin my call for the liberation from the tyranny, unjust anti-establishment of the High Council, will beckon to my side, and we will put forth a new leadership! My leadership! No one can stop me now!"

"That is not my fight. My only desire it to protect my masters. But if I must…" He turned to Ciel and Lukas for a moment. "My lord's, I will return to collect you shortly. Remain here."

"Sebastian? What do you think you're doing?" Ciel demanded.

"Insuring my own best interests," he said smiling, repeating what Ciel had said to Lukas about lying to Elizabeth when the truth of what Lukas had to her, knocking her unconscious prior, would not be told to her.

Sebastian stood on his feet and faced the electrified Reaper. "Time to end this, Reaper. I overheard you telling your wife that you would not leave until you acquired what you wanted. Alas, I declare the same, and you can not take what is mine!"

"And you will stop me?"

Sebastian smiled. "I will try…"

And he launched himself over the edge of the roof at Kelvin. They plummeted to the ground, landing with a thunderous boom, bolts of electricity soaring high into the sky from the impact. A large hole had been made.

Sebastian jumped out of the hole to his feet onto solid ground. But he knew what he had done would only give him a momentary reprieve. If the impact didn't hurt him, it most certainly didn't harm Kelvin in his new state of being.

And he was correct. Kelvin roared angrily and sparks of electricity shot out of the hole as one hand clamped the edge of it and then the other on the other side. He hauled himself out and climbed to his feet.

Kelvin laughed invincible. "Pathetic! There's no place to hide, demon. I can sense your darkness. It draws me to you. I feed off it, and it makes me stronger. Every time you attack me, I grow stronger!"

With a flick of a wrist, Kelvin sent a bolt of lightning at Sebastian. Sebastian leapt out of the way, but they were so close to the mansion it impacted the wall and destroyed a room, the bay window exploding inward and setting the furniture inside aflame.

Sebastian frowned, quickly swiping a hand to create a wind to douse the flames so they would not spread. But the damage had been done. "We just had that room refurbished," he said, sighing. "The young master had destroyed it during a temper tantrum."

"I heard that, Sebastian!" Lukas yelled down from the roof top.

"The truth, my lord, merely the truth," he replied, looking up, slightly amused.

"I suggest you worry less about your _masters_ and focus on me!"

"Multi-tasking is the apex of a good butler." Sebastian briefly looked past Kelvin at the stone garden, he withheld a smile. "Shall we make another wager?"

"I am no longer interested in wagering, demon!"

Sebastian eyed Kelvin skeptically. "Philosophically speaking, humans bet on themselves every day whether they will live or die, and your "host" was a betting man. So I purpose a wager. If I win, I keep what is mine. And if you win, I will annul my covenants with my masters and join you in partnership, and together we will destroy the _Reaperdem_ together. A contract, if you will."

The wager seemed to make Kelvin think for a moment, and Sebastian waxed philosophically, that it was probably the host's will that was making this Reaper stand back and contemplate about the deal. If there was one thing Sebastian knew about human's, it was a human can never change their innate, addictive nature. And Mathu Kelvin was a well renown gambler, it was his Achilles Heel.

"Well?"

"I don't trust you, demon. And that is what I and my host agree upon!"

Sebastian shrugged. "Very well. Then I believe the old fashion method will be the best form of valor here."

Choosing to run, he sprinted past Kelvin towards the stone garden, entering it. He was able to with a Triad he had unknowingly taken from his lord, Lukas's neck, when he had carried him and Ciel up to the roof top. When he his legs had collapsed under the numbness from the lightning attack from Kelvin and the boys began to roll down the arched roof, he had reached for them, only able to grab the Triad chain around Lukas's neck. He had slipped into his pocket to it give back to him later, but now it had proven useful.

He stood in the middle of the white stone square, an invisible spiritual barrier surrounding him.

"Do you forget, demon, that I also can pass through spiritual barriers?" Kelvin showed the Triad that hung around his neck untouched by the forces of electricity he generated throughout and about his outer body and he passed through the invisible barrier easily to stand on the white stone facing Sebastian. "Did you believe you could escape me in here? How utterly pathetic! And I was starting to have respect for you, fighting until the end."

Sebastian grinned. "That is something I remind my master almost on a daily bases, and I will continue to do so…until the _very_ end."

He ran around the Reaper, and while doing so plucked the exposed Triad and chain from around Kelvin's neck, then escaped out of the barrier.

Kelvin attempted to follow, but the barrier stopped him in his tracks. He slammed his fists on it as if it were a solid wall, hammering with the force of a godly being. He even threw lightning bolts into the walls, but the spiritual barrier merely absorbed the electrical energy. The Reaper roared with rage.

"Right where you belong," Sebastian said, "like an animal caged," standing just beyond the barrier wall.

Kelvin gazed at him with a deep hatred. "This cage won't hold me long, Michaelis. There is always a way out of every spiritual barrier. That Reaper Knox knew about it when he broke Grell Sutcliff out at the Inner Circle's secret amphitheatre gathering place, and so do I. The Key Spell. Once it's called upon, the barrier shatters." Kelvin swiped his hand along the invisible barrier walls exposing the secret script keeping the barrier locked. "And it won't be long, for I know precisely what to look for." A broad smile crossed his face.

"Secret gathering place?" Sebastian mused momentarily. That was useful information to help forward his search for those who had done Ciel Phantomhive wrong and _very_ helpful to speed up the elimination process so he can inch closer to devouring his master's soul. However, could it be the very same amphitheatre that he first made the covenant with Ciel Phantomhive? If so, perhaps it was time to return to hunt for more clues to help his master continue his search. "Unfortunately, Reaper, you will not get the chance," he said further, returning back to the conversion at hand about the barrier. "You see, someone _else_ has been watching our little _tat-a-tat_, and I am not only referring to your fellow Reapers. This stone garden is not just for show, it is to hide something of _my_ summoning, or to be correct, _His_ summoning."

Beneath the Reaper's feet, a force felt unlike any other, threw back the white stones asunder and out of the barrier, revealing something large etched beneath, or rather something _summoned_ from beneath.

It was known as the _Ocularis Infernum _or the "Eye of Hell", and it was a large, omni-eye, that could see everything, knew everything, and was a direct conduit to the fiery depths of Hell itself. Finny had filled in the exactly dimensions with white stone Sebastian had told him to, so the eye could be brought to the human world inconspicuously by Sebastian's _true_ lord and master - "the shining one, the morning star" - Lucifer.

Kelvin's feet began to sink into the iris of the eye like quicksand and arms suddenly burst out of the ground and wrapped around his legs with vice grips, dragging him further down. The Reaper tried to struggle against them, but to no avail, and soon found his legs almost completely submerged. The arms continued at him, reaching for his torso. Kelvin tried to yank himself free without success.

"No! Please, Michaelis! Help me! I'll give you anything you want!" Kevin cried, the look of utter fear in his fiery eyes!

"That's the beauty of it," he turned to the two boys who were watching everything unfold from the roof top, then turned back to Kelvin who was now submerged up to his armpits, "I already have what I want." Kelvin continued to struggle, but the arms would not relent, clutching at his shoulders and head. "My Master will enjoy devouring you, over and over and over again. For that is what Hell is - repetition." Sebastian's eyes glowered. "At the risk of sounding cliché, go to Hell." He grinned. "_Please_."

"_Michea-_"

And with a final plea, one last dying scream, the Reaper was pulled completely under - and the eye disappeared. Sebastian used his powers to return the white stones back to where they lain before thrown asunder, back into a perfect square.

Sebastian took a reflective sigh of relief.

It was finally over. The Fallen Reapers had been defeated and his masters were safe.

He looked back at the roof top and saw both boys looking down at him. Indeed, he was a butler with two masters. Two delicious souls to eventually partake in, their strength and determination in the face of adversity would add to their taste. They had helped him defeat the Fallen Reapers by allowing him to draw on their energies. He had told Lukas that _their_ covenant would only be temporary, but he wouldn't hear of it, giving haste to sharing his brother's fate. And Sebastian gladly accepted his decision.

"Sebastian! What are you waiting for? Get us down from here!" Ciel demanded.

"Coming sir," he replied back.

But before he could gorge on their souls, he knew there was still a lot more enemies out there Ciel Phantomhive wanted eliminated before _he_ was satisfied everyone who had done him wrong were gone. And yet, he had the same covenant with Lukas Phantomhive, to now help _him_ eliminate everyone who had done _him_ wrong. And both agreed they wanted Bryon Kelvin, wherever he may be?

He didn't know how many people he would have to kill to fulfill his covenant to them _both_, but he knew one thing assuredly, patience was a virtue practiced by wise men who eventually achieved their goals.

_Patience_, he told himself.

_Patience_.

**To be continued…**


	30. Finale?

**CHAPTER 29 - "FINALE?"**

Still on the roof, Lukas said, "Ciel, there's a hatch on the other side of the roof over there." He pointed. "We can get down here, then make our way through the mansion to ground. We do not need to wait for Sebastian. I am embarrassed to admit, but I am not fond of heights."

Lukas started towards the hatch, but stopped when Ciel did not follow. He looked back. Ciel was standing on his feet, looking down over the edge of the roof top.

"Ciel, what are you doing?" Lukas demanded.

"Proving a point, dear brother," Ciel said, and stretched his arms out like the wings of a bird, and tipped forward.

"_CIEL!_" Lukas screamed. "_SEBASTIAN…_" he shouted, hoping the demon would hear him.

Ciel plummeted like a stone, but he was snatched just meters before hitting the ground, caught in Sebastian's arms like an angelic savior; they landed softly. "My lord, what a foolish thing to do," Sebastian said. He put Ciel down.

"Now here me, Sebastian," he said just quiet enough for the demon to hear. "I did this for a moment alone with you. You are mine! I wish you to annul your covenant with my brother, as you said prior. Make up some excuse, but to it. This is an order!"

Sebastian chuckled softly. "Why my lord, I never took you as be the jealous type. But I will do as you order."

Lukas had made his way down through the mansion and back to the courtyard, then confronted his brother angrily. "What the hell were you doing?"

Ciel grinned crookedly. "Proving a point, Lukas."

"And what point was that? That humans can _not_ fly like birds?"

"Indeed, but no. That no matter what Sebastian will never let me _fall_."

"That is just foolish and stupid and in-in-"

"Incomprehensible?"

"Incomprehensibly idiotic!" Lukas snorted angry, then turned away, and visually examined Sebastian. He seemed worse for ware. "Will _you_ be alright, Sebastian?"

"I appreciate your concern, my lord," the demon said. "Yes, I shall be fine, after a little recuperation. But I will not shirk my duties. There is much to be done to rebuild the grounds and the mansion."

The giant hole in the side of the mansion said it all about just how much damage the Fallen Reaper could have inflicted if he had won and was left to his own devices in the human world but also in the spirit one, to wage war against the _Reaperdem_ like he stated. But now the threat had passed and it was thanks to Sebastian's efforts.

He knew Ciel would never say such, so he said, "Sebastian, good work. And may I have the Triad back?"

Sebastian nodded, and reached into his pocket and returned it.

Lukas slipped it back around his neck. He then ventured forth to the square of white stones, but didn't dare step onto to them, knowing what _may _still lay beneath…

"Is it safe, Sebastian?" he asked. "Is it…gone?" Referring to the _Ocularis Infernum _or the "Eye of Hell", that prior education had taught him about.

"Quite safe, my lord," the demon said. "The Reaper is no longer a threat, nor is "it" still there."

Lukas gulped guiltily. He hoped he had not insulted Sebastian by calling the Eye of Hell as "it".

"Good," Ciel said, and came to stand next to his brother, then ventured to the centre of the square, unafraid. "Because I don't want "it" on the grounds again!"

Lukas was taken aback by Ciel's straight-forwardness and nothing of being tactful or respectful of Sebastian's _true_ _first_ master.

But Sebastian didn't appear offended. "Of course, my lord."

Ronald Knox "winked" back into existence in the courtyard near them. "Is it over?" he asked.

"Yes, Reaper," Sebastian said. "You are safe now."

Knox straightened his tie embarrassed. "Um, I…wasn't afraid…I just…"

"Indeed. And I concur with your _leaving_. It was the better part of valor, to escape and fight another day."

Knox nodded. "We Reapers aren't infallible, like humans we can also…" He stopped, as if he realized he was about to reveal a precious secret. Then the Reaper's eyes widened as if he had forgotten something. "Grell!"

Running across an adjacent open grassy field with the others in tow, he found Grell laying on his back in the field, a trail of ripped up soil where the Reaper had obviously skidded along the ground to eventually end up at his final destination. The flamboyant Reaper was just starting to regain consciousness.

"Grell, man, you alright?" Knox said, helping the Reaper to sit up. "That was some wild fall after Ironstadt hit you."

"Indeed," Sebastian agreed.

With the demon's voice, the Reaper seemed to acquire a second wind, and jumped to his feet. Seeing Sebastian alive, after witnessing him ripped apart and devoured by the three headed serpentine monster, and attacking the Ironstadt in retaliation, he puckered his lips in a kiss. "Bassie!" leaping to the butler.

Sebastian held out a hand. "Decorum, Grell. There is still the issue of your involvement in my master's aunt's death. We _could_ settle it here?"

Grell took a couple of steps back, and smiled nervously. "I'm glad you are alive, Bassie."

"Indeed."

Knox sighed.

"Why the sigh, Reaper?" Sebastian asked Knox.

"He might as well be "dead", so to speak, after Will gets through with us," Knox said. "We got involved in human affairs against direct orders. Will's gonna have our heads!"

"I am sure he will be forgiving," Sebastian said reassuringly, "seeing you aided in our plight in defeating the Fallen Reapers."

"Such undiscipline," a new but familiar voice said from behind the two Reapers. And both Grell and Knox yelped in sudden fright, when William T. Spears, Head of Reaper Affairs, suddenly "winked" into existence in the grassy field. "You are both fined one demerit point for disobeying orders."

"_Awwwwwwwwwwww!_" both subordinate Reapers whined.

Knox had captured Ironstadt's soul within his Deathscythe, but he knew it was unwise to argue with Will. Despite having his Deathscythe destroyed, the spirit of the monster had been immediately sent up to the _Reaperdem_ detention centre for containment.

William T. Spears adjusted his glasses situating them to the bridge of his nose. "It would seem we own you a debt of gratitude, demon."

"Two, by my count," Sebastian said.

William nodded reluctantly. "Indeed," eyeing Grell. "The Jack the Reaper incident. I had nearly forgotten. And I wish I had. I so loathe _owning_ such a despicable creature as yourself anything."

"Watch your tongue, Reaper!" Lukas spoke up.

"Pardon?" Will looked at him.

"Sebastian saved us all, including these two Reapers from a terrible fate. Show some gratitude and respect!"

William narrowed his eyes in contempt, then eyed Sebastian. "I suggest you muzzle your _pet_, demon."

"I am not his pet! I am a Phantomhive and Sebastian and I have a covenant, and throughout everything that has happened and everything _we_ have endured here today, I honor him with the respect of valor he deserves. To me, he is more than just a demon, more than just a butler," Lukas turned to smile at Sebastian, "he is…a friend."

Sebastian blinked, seemingly taken aback.

"Fool," William said, without giving Sebastian time to make a reply. "He will devour your soul, human, and whatever _debt_ you may think you own him, it means nothing. In the end, you and your brother will lose everything. You are delusional if your existence means anything from this point on."

"That is where you are wrong, Reaper!" Ciel spoke up. "I have ordered Sebastian to annul my brother's contract with him, and he has agreed. He has returned Lukas's life back to him."

William rudely grabbed Lukas's tongue and pulled it out to see it. He knew where the covenant had been placed by Sebastian, watching everything through the Looking Glass Receptacle Ball. But now it was gone.

Lukas slapped the Reaper's hand away. "Don't you ever touch me again, Reaper!" He looked to Ciel. "Why?" he demanded.

Ciel smiled crookedly and was about to respond dishonestly to protect his brother's feelings, when William said, "Because he is selfish. He wants Sebastian to himself. He and the demon have been bonded for two years without you and he is jealous he would have to share."

"Is this true, Ciel?"

Ciel frowned, as if out-maneuvered. "Reaper, you are outspoken. Leave us, now!"

"Very well," William said, knowing he was correct. "We shalt take our leave. And I certainly hope we shalt-_not_ meet again, demon."

"You're welcome," Sebastian said graciously, as if responding to an unsaid "thank you".

William scowled, then "winked out" with the other Reapers.

"Not even a bloody thank-you!" Lukas snorted angrily. "How ungracious and rude!"

Sebastian said nothing in answer, but did nod in agreement.

When they returned back to the main courtyard, they found Savannah's body had also disappeared with her and Ironstadt's Triads. Sebastian reached into pocket to feel for Mathu Kelvin's Triad , but it was gone as well. That haughty Reaper must have retrieved it like the others.

He gave a brief glance to Lukas, obviously the boy had not yet noticed that _his_ Triad - the one given to him by the Undertaker - was also gone. The Undertaker, whom Sebastian knew was a Reaper masquerading as a human by the feel of his aura, for which Ciel did not know, but for which Lukas assuredly did. But Ciel being an intelligent young lad would probably figure it out for himself, someday.

"I've decided. The stone garden, get rid of it," Ciel ordered.

Sebastian bowed. "I will have Finny begin to remove the stones when he returns," he said. "May I inquire what I shall say to the servants? They will wonder why?"

"I changed my mind. As simple as that."

* * *

Two weeks passed without further incidents and the Phantonhive mansion was settling into a routine.

Contract workers were brought in to repair the damage to the backside of the mansion caused by both the Fallen Reapers and prior damage caused by the deceased twins - Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt. The workers and the servants in regards to the latter damage were told that it was an unfortunate and fowled attempt at disposing left over tiny veils of nitroglycerin left over by the prior attack on the grounds. And since nitroglycerin was such an unstable liquid, it was a believable excuse.

Over this fortnight, issues and discussions had been forthcoming about what their next move would be and to whom they should begin hunting in regards to the transgressions against the Phantomhive family, but both boys agreed all would be dealt with independently in due course.

And Sebastian didn't mind waiting, for now.

In the Dining Room, the nightly meal was served, and Ciel and Lukas sat at opposite ends of the elongated table, much like they should as heads of the household. To eat along side the other on the side would negate their status, despite it being closer to talk to one another.

"I wonder what happened to the shard of the Hope Diamond the Reapers had?" Lukas spooned some vegetable gazpacho soup into his mouth. It was traditional to eat it cold. "Didn't Sebastian give it to you?" he asked Ciel.

"Yes," Ciel said, taking a sip from a goblet, "and in all the commotion I accidentally dropped it." He put it down. "Sebastian has combed the area, but it is no where to be found."

"It could not have fallen far," Lukas wondered, then gulped nervously. "Do you think it could have been sucked down to Hell with the Fallen Reaper after the fact, pulled down by…"

Sebastian shook his head, standing afar next to a wall. "I would know," he said.

Ciel shrugged, after ingesting a spoon full of soup. "It matters not. I consider the matter finished."

"Finished? Do you not worry that someone might find the shard and use it sinisterly?"

"No, and I believe it is an issue that deserves no more discussion."

"No more discussion? Are you mad? There is a powerfully cursed shard of the Hope Diamond lost somewhere fueled with dark energy! Are you unconcerned?"

"Yes, and why must you be so difficult?"

"Difficult?" Lukas slammed his hands on the table, rattling the dishes. "You insufferable, pompous… Sebastian may have been our savior against the Fallen Reapers, but it does not make _you_ - the only one with a covenant now - untouchable! You and I still have many more enemies out there!"

"Indeed, and we will deal with each in time. Now, I will would like to eat my dinner in peace, _without_ further argument on _already_ settled issues."

Lukas growled under his breath and gave a sideways glance to Sebastian who was masking his face with a gloved hand in abashment. The argument was embarrassing him.

Lukas snorted one last protest. "Intolerable," he said. Even in the short time he had become re-acquainted with his brother, he had learned of Ciel's ever-arrogant behavior and hated it. "You'll never change."

"Are you quite finished?"

Lukas dropped down into his seat, his arms crossed. "Yes, for now. I should have left for good when I had the chance weeks prior."

"You still can."

"Pardon?"

"If you insist on being a child and arguing, you're welcome to leave. I won't stop you."

Lukas unconsciously clutched the butler knife next to his bowl of soup. Sebastian had brought two baskets of nice soft bread for each of them earlier that he had finished off quickly. The knife had not been used because Sebastian had buttered the bread prior and it had been placed down merely for etiquette purposes. But Ciel's attitude made Lukas reach for something to squeeze, something to contain his anger…

"Why are you brooding, Lukas?" Ciel said. "From what I remember of them, mother and father never snapped to judgment, nor were they quick to -"

Lukas snapped his wrist, throwing it at Ciel with swift velocity. It embedded itself in the right wooden high portion of Ciel's chair just above Ciel's collarbone.

Sebastian hadn't stopped it.

"If I learnt anything from my secret training it is that I am quick. Not even Sebastian had time to stop it."

Ciel had to turn his head to see the knife sticking out from the chair on his right side, because he was blinded due to the eye patch covering his eyes. But he didn't remove it. He looked back at Lukas.

"Nay, you are not," he said calmly. "You fail to realize the situation before you with the duel, and that you missed on purpose even then, shooting the pistol out of my hand whereas you could have killed me. Whereas I _missed_," he gave Sebastian a knowing look, then turned back to Lukas, "and you knew you would here, even with your amnesia lifted. You may have been trained as an assassin, brother, but you are _not_ a killer at heart. You have defeated your programming. You could not kill me, even without Sebastian. We are family, and family _protect_ one another…from harm."

Lukas growled under his breath once again. "You are so - "

"Pugnacious."

Lukas blinked his eyes in momentary confusion. "No, I was about to say…"

"I am describing you, Lukas, because you are so eager to argue," Ciel said flatly. "We must begin to _train_ that out of you. Perhaps you picked up this argumentative trait from your associations with Bryon Kelvin?"

"You know I can't answer that. Despite observing my cinematic record under the care of the Undertaker, certain memories are foggy and distorted from a perspective sort of view."

He looked at Sebastian briefly. The butler had made him realize perhaps not all what he had seen before, when his life passed before his eyes in his cinematic record was _certain _truth, that what was shown to him should only be taken on surface value and not "the whole truth", and that there was more to just his parent's superficiality and status quo nature when it came to them regarding his plain face and attempting to surgically alter his appearance to make him more socially appealing. They had been trying to help him, he knew. They really loved him. It was unfortunate that Bryon Kelvin then took advantage of their kind heartedness and did what he did, lying to Vincent and Rachel that he had died on the operating table.

"Maybe over time they will return," Ciel said, regarding Lukas's faded memories. "So I suggest you forget about the past and focus on the present. We have much to discuss about the state of our enemies and their elimination."

Lukas nodded. "At least _that _we can agree upon, brother. But finding Bryon Kelvin will be a hard task."

"Believe me, Lukas. I want him just as badly as you do for what he has done to our family. No one attacks the Phantomhive's without paying a high price."

Lukas agreed. "A very high price!"

* * *

After dinner, they retired to the Drawing Room, where Sebastian served them tea. Ciel sat in the high chair, while Lukas sat on the leather couch.

Lukas sipped the tea, smelling a very strong, but sweet and lovely aroma. "Is this honeysuckle tea, Sebastian?" he said excitedly. "I was given to think that it was only available on the island of Australia or in China due to its exclusivity despite imports? Very nice choice."

"Thank you, my lord. I wanted to try something new. There are only so many times one can partake in Earl Grey." The butler gave him a thin smile.

Lukas chuckled. Earl Grey was his favorite tea. "I approve." Sebastian nodded. "I hear there are talks of an independent commonwealth being established by the British colonies on Australia. Brother, have you heard any of the latest news regarding that part of the world?"

Lukas observed Ciel looking downcast at his tea cup sitting in his lap, his eyes looked wide, almost in a state of remembrance shock. It appeared he had not taken a sip of tea due to this moment of reverence. It almost appeared that a sudden past memory had captured his mind at the moment triggered by something.

"Ciel? Are you feeling well?"

Ciel snapped out of his apparent daydream. He blinked, and frowned at the tea, as if the very smell of it brought out an unconscious repulsion.

"Do you approve of the tea, sir?" Sebastian asked.

"No," he said strongly, and retrospectively. "I do not approve. Not at all."

**To be continued...**


	31. Epilogue UN 1

**EPILOGUE "_UN_" (1)**

Rachel Phantomhive cradled her seven year old son in her arms against her chest. He was old enough to stand on his own two feet, but right now he was in desperate need of a caring loved one.

"He won't stop crying, Vincent," she said both concerned and frustrated to her husband, as they stood in the main hallway of the Phantomhive mansion. Even the family dog, Sebastian, a large Russian, blond, long-haired bloodhound attempted to provide comfort to the wailing child by nudging him with his nose, but instead began to whimper himself in concern.

Ciel Phantomhive's eyes were red with tears and the sound of his cries were heard throughout the mansion. The elder family butler, Tanaka, standing next to the couple - who enjoyed spending time with the child, playing with him on occasion and who always had a smile - unfortunately could not help the young boy with this problem. The boy was not sick, but he was sad - very, very sad. And had been for a month.

"We have tried every reputable child psychologist in London, France, and Germany, Rachel," her husband said, "but they all say the same thing: he's crying for Lukas to come home. Twins have a strong bond, Sigmond Freud says. When one dies, the other feels it dramatically. It is best described as losing a limb and still feeling residual pain from the nerves, believing it is still there. He will just have to get over it."

"He's our son, Vincent, have a heart. Lukas died one month ago today during an operation _you_ insisted on."

"Are you blaming me for our son's death, my dear?" Vincent asked coldly.

"No, Vincent. I also thought it was prudent to give Lukas a fighting chance at life. The surgery to fix his face of the deformity would have done this. That old man, Bryon Kelvin, told us everything would be fine-that he knew people who would make Lukas look as beautiful as Ciel. _He killed my boy!_"

Vincent knew "_He killed my boy!_" was an irrational statement. "No Rachel, the stress of the surgery was just too great for him to handle."

"That's what Bryon Kelvin told us, but you should _not_ have trusted him. He's sick in the head!"

"Why do you say that? Because he sponsors an orphanage and spends time with children?"

"He's a grown man-"

"He's a caring man, my dear. And it's not his fault Lukas died." Vincent took his son from his wife and cradled him against his chest, hoping to comfort him with his own touch. But the child continued to wail. "We have Ciel to look after now. He is our main concern." He thought for a moment. "Perhaps what we need is a less conventional method of relieving Ciel's mental anguish."

"What do you suggest?"

"I know someone who may help us. He is a member of the Inner Circle, an old friend."

"You disassociated yourself from them over a year ago. They're out for their own agenda, Vincent. They're working towards inserting a new regime to usurp the Queen's authority."

"And as long as I'm alive - and _we_ as the Queen's watch dog's - that agenda will never come to pass. But we need his help now. And he owes me a favor."

* * *

The next day, after contacting his friend within the Inner Circle, and now sided with an acquaintance and bodyguard - whom like Vincent was a member of a selected group of aristocratic, trusted friends - Tanaka drove the horse and carriage with Vincent, Rachel, Ciel, and this other person, to a seedy part of London where nobles would never dare to venture. This dank and criminally active area was home to "undesirables". It was a place where people were left to their own devices. It was also so-called the belly of the criminal underworld.

Vincent was reminded of the novel "_Oliver Twist_," by Charles Dickens, where the protagonist boy came to live in this rank, unruly underworld, abandoned by an uncaring world. The book also surprisingly brought to light the realism of the social depravity of child labor and the social unrest within London in these areas that that had sadly been ignored within the government. And Vincent wondered if perhaps Bryon Kelvin had read this book and it influenced him to take a caring role and to help the lost forgotten children of London?

Brick houses and shops lined the cobblestone streets, occasionally patrolled by Bobbies, English policemen.

These types of places saw the rise of "Dodgers" - seedy, self-interested entrepreneurs - who ran hidden enterprises beneath the law. Gambling dens were widespread here, and they saw underground rings filled with hungry, heated aggressive fighters in fisted combat, along with cock fights and other underhanded dealings. Prostitution also ran rapid here, and there was very little Scotland Yard could do about it. People had to live. Sometimes by any means necessary. And often the Bobbies looked the other way.

One notorious gambler and seedy entrepreneur who frequented these gambling spots was the nephew of Bryon Kelvin, Mathu Kelvin. He was a intelligent man with degrees in literature and sociology, attending the university of Cambridge in London. But he never amounted to his potential. The addictive nature of gambling had captured him and he had nearly blown his entire family inheritance.

But Vincent wasn't concerned with him. Mathu Kelvin was nothing. But he _had_ been known to associate himself with the Inner Circle and had his own _inner circle _of friends within the criminal underworld. And Vincent had thought about questioning him if he knew anything about the recent string of child kidnappings that were plaguing London as of late, as he appeared to mix with many of the notorious criminals that plagued London. He was known to Scotland Yard, but as of yet was not been charged with a crime.

But there _were_ two such criminals he _had_ spent numerous hours hunting down along with Scotland Yard without success, as the Queen's watch dog. Twin teenagers named Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt. And he _did_ know they were involved in some fashion with the child kidnappings and knew they knew the criminal mastermind behind them. They were also notorious serial-killers who hired themselves out to anyone if their price was met and cared for no-one and nothing, but their own greedy ambitions, murdering their own parents because "they wanted to know what it felt like". They had once told him this during a recent encounter with them in a warehouse on a waft near the Themes River. Here they had a band of children with them who had been sadistically brainwashed to do their _master's_ bidding, even if it meant, in the case of one child, killing themselves to prove a point of their complete loyalty to their programming.

_But this issue will be dealt with at another time,_ he told himself.

Tanaka stopped the carriage in front of a brick layered-shoe emporium, but this was not where they needed to go - and after getting down off the perched seat on the front of the carriage, the butler opened the side door to the vehicle, allowing everyone to step out. Tanaka showed them to a series of stone steps that lead to a shop in a lower, dark alcove, beside the shoe emporium, but was told to stay with the carriage.

"Mommy, what is this place? It smells funny," Ciel said. Obviously the boy smelled the rankness of the area.

"I know, sweetie," she said.

Vincent had thought ahead and asked one of their most trusted friends to come along as protection. This was a place where the unseedy would attack anyone who appeared to have money. Which the Phantomhive's did have. And indeed, they were one of the richest family's in all of London with their company _Fantom Co.,_ that manufactured an assortment of goods and services within London's industrial and economic sectors that Vincent inherited from his father and expanded to monumental heights.

With their protection in tow, Vincent, Rachel and Ciel took the steps down to the small, enclosed place, where one wooden door resided. A dim wall mounted light illuminated this place.

"Are you sure this is the proper solution, Vincent?" Rachel asked.

Vincent turned to her. "It's the only option we have left, my dear." He looked down at his son, who wasn't crying at the moment, but had been until late last night before falling asleep. He knew Ciel will continue to cry for his dead twin brother in weeks to come and would be psychologically scarred by it. But he wanted his son to grow up strong, not some blubbering idiot. "I know you don't believe in this…'magic', you would say, but I am told she performs wonders."

"They are tricksters, Vincent. You're a logical man-"

"I am also a realistic man, my dear. I only want what's best for our son."

He knocked on the door, and it was opened by a beautiful young gypsy woman adorned with masquerade jewelry, and wearing a long, yellow dress, that was fitted to her slender figure. Vincent didn't know if the gold and other pieces that she wore were pure or Chinese knock-offs that were apparently flooding the black market, but as she was linked to a certain rich and _married_ philanthropist within the Inner Circle who loved beautiful women, so he wagered that they were probably real…

He sniffed the air and the scent of honeysuckle incense could be smelled from inside her dwelling. He frowned. He enjoyed honeysuckle tea. It was his favorite, second only to Earl Grey. But if what he had planned for his son worked, he could never have it again because the aromatic smell could undo it, according to certain medical journals on "memory triggers" he had read - that certain sights, sounds and smells can have a profound influence on restoring long forgotten memories.

Vincent turned to his protection, a strong, tall looking man with a deep scar across the left side of his face, blinding his left eye to sheer white. He was a posh gentleman in his own rite, but Vincent brought him along because he was also a excellent enforcer. "Vulcan, stay here, and guard the door," he demanded. The man complied, as Vincent, Rachel, and Ciel ventured forth inside.

"Poo! It smells funny in here too," Ciel said, waving a hand across his face, obviously to the heaviness of the honeysuckle incense from burning candles spread throughout the room.

Rachel held his other hand.

"I know, son, but it will pass." Vincent looked to his wife. "Remind me to tell Tanaka to never serve Honeysuckle tea again," he said off-handedly.

She nodded slowly, not sure why. She would ask him about it later.

The parlor of the dwelling was adorned with red curtains, surrounding a red clothed circular table with a crystal ball in the middle, the atypical fortune-teller business frontier. But there was something different about this woman. Vincent noticed she was not only stunningly beautiful, but she also possessed a certain _je ne sais qua _that struck him that only nobility and highly intelligent people had.

But he set the thought aside for the moment.

"Good evening, Mister -"

"No names," Vincent said abruptly. "And we want this done quietly, as it was agreed."

"The terms were noted to me, my lord," the woman spoke in an excellent, well-educated matter; none of the English, low-brow cockney that less sophisticated British socialites spoke. _A rarity_, he thought. _Perhaps the reason why she was chosen to be his squeeze,_ Vincent surmised of the Inner Circle member whom was having an affair with her._ Well-educated and stunningly beautiful. Much like my own wife, Rachel. _"I do not normally do this _sort_ of thing," she continued. "I am mostly a fortune-teller, but I will try."

"We were referred to you by a "friend", because he said that you _do_ this sort of thing."

She nodded. "On occasion. And the price-?"

"Name it." She did. "Agreed," he said without hesitation.

The gypsy looked taken aback for a moment shocked. Vincent knew that gypsy's normally haggled over price, mostly to favor themselves. It was a part of their culture. But he didn't want to get into a money war, so the price she told him was just that. Besides, he wanted this done quickly.

The woman knelt down in front of Ciel and smiled. "Hello little boy, don't be frightened. My name is Savannah, and I will do all I can to help you."

"Help me?" Ciel said, cocking his head slightly to the right. "What kind of help?"

"Your Mommy and Daddy tell me that you are having trouble dealing with…" Savannah looked to Vincent, as if to ask permission to explain it to the child. Vincent nodded. She looked back at Ciel. She appeared to take a moment to word it properly. "…with your brother being gone."

Ciel's eyes began to tear up. He nodded. "Lukas has gone away for a while, but I know he will be back."

Savannah looked to Vincent again, and he gave her a stern stare to "fix" his son.

It had been explained to her that Ciel had been crying for his brother for the past month after it was learned he had died and Ciel was suffering from withdrawal symptoms and was starting to create a make-believe world where his brother had only _gone away for a while _and will be back later - most likely due to the fact Vincent had not allowed Ciel to view Lukas's body when he was retrieved from an undertaker. Lukas's face had been unrecognizable due to the surgery, and he did not want Ciel's last image of his brother to be this dead, grotesque looking person.

Lukas was buried in the family plot in a far off field on the Phantomhive property adjacent to the mansion, in an unmarked grave for Ciel's sake; his body wrapped completely to mask his identity and hideously scarred face due to surgery, in an attempt to fix his facial deformities brought on by Lukas accidentally sipping some of Ciel's asthma medicine. While Rachel had asthma and passed it to Ciel, Lukas somehow was never afflicted by it. But one day, his curiosity got the better of him, and he wanted to try some of the medicine that helped Ciel cope with it, and he suffered a horribly adverse reaction to it, causing bumps to raise all over his face. But even after the reaction ended, scars left from the bumps remained, giving Lukas a grotesque looking appearance. He was scheduled to have surgery to repair these scars by a competent plastic surgeon recommended by Bryon Kelvin. But Lukas never left this doctor's care alive.

Vincent wanted Ciel to be realistic when it came to his dead brother, but for a child-that was near impossible. Thus, he knew, what he wanted done was the only option.

"I want Ciel to smile again," Rachel chimed in. "I miss his sweet smile."

Vincent chided his wife for speaking their son's name out loud, he did not want what was to happen to make its way to the public and cause a scandal. They had come to this rankady part of town moderately dressed in suited attire, so they would not be recognized - but eyes and ears were everywhere!

"I will do what I can," Savannah said, standing up. "Please, have a seat." She directed Ciel to the chair facing the circular table.

Ciel hopped up. "What is that?" he said, pointing to the crystal ball.

"Something I will use to help you. Now child, look into my crystal ball. And look deeply."

Vincent and Rachel stood on either side of Ciel, as Savannah began.

Her fingers began to dance around the ball's surface and her eyes focused on a single point within the ball, with deep concentration. Soon a speck of light appeared as if willed into existence, and grew, and grew…until inside, it burst into an form of chaotic lightning with bolts of electricity cascading in every direction in a multitude of different shades and colors, changing rapidly, much like a kaleidoscope.

_Static electricity?_ Vincent wondered.

Ciel was mesmerized with it, and he even got up on his knees, leaning closer on the table to it, as if unconsciously drawn to it. "_Woooooooow!_" he seemed to say slowly, even smiling. Rachel looked at Vincent for a moment and he nodded approvingly. "Look at all the pretty colors, like fireworks…"

_Parlor tricks,_ Vincent thought. _But impressive._ And seemingly more effective and alluring that a pengillum swinging watch that most therapists used to take a person into a state of unconscious thought.

Ciel looked utterly fascinated at the crystal ball, gazing deeply into it.

_Notwithstanding her _trickery_ method_, _it seems to be working, _Vincent thought. _Regardless, gypsy's are known to have deep, sinister, unexplained powers,_ he concluded.

Vincent watched his son's gaze glaze over, blinkingly slowly, as if in a state of waking sleep; much like in a state of unconscious thought. He thought it would be more difficult, seeing a child's mind is less controlled than an adult's, but Savannah appeared to reach his expectations and quickly with her "magic" crystal ball.

The gypsy looked to him as if to confirm he wanted this done. There was no turning back, no reverse switch.

Vincent nodded.

She turned back to Ciel, and began to speak very soothingly. "Now repeat after me, child. And take heed of my words. And believe them as if they are your own thoughts." She paused a moment, as if to allow Ciel's brain to ready itself. "I have no brother."

"I…have…no…brother," Ciel repeated slowly, he blinked glassy eyes.

"There is no Lukas Phantomhive."

Ciel hesitated a moment, as if his brain was trying to comprehend the incorrect information.

But then he repeated it.

And believed it.

Vincent quietly sighed. He was glad and yet saddened at the same time. After this, he will have his smiling son back, but on the other hand… _Lukas Phantomhive is now truly dead._

Now all he had to do was remove all traces of his dead son from the mansion…

And from the rest of _Ciel's world_.

**The end…?**

**(To be conclued with a second epilogue.)**


	32. Epilogue Deux 2

**EPILOGUE "DEUX" (2)**

His name was Rik Richardson, or that's what he _used_ to be called when he was brought to the orphanage and then allied himself with a kind, caring man, who took him in with other children, when he was destitute, starving, and on death's door, living on the streets of London.

Now he was known by his non de plume: _Joker_.

But there was something _wrong_ with his savior; Joker considered him a little mentally unstable. Indeed, then who wasn't in this turbulent world?

The man insisted that all the children whom he had had rescued from a life spiraling towards death call him _Father_, but in the fashion he treated "his children" - he didn't have a caring nature anymore, not since many of his children had grown over the years - Joker would have to say _Father_ treated them inappropriately. But, that was not his business. His only concern was that he now had a place to call home, and a family with his traveling circus troupe of performers, whom were all rescued by _Father_.

But most recently, Joker had been pulled away from his troupe for a secret, covert mission. _Father_ had wanted him to follow and observe Lukas Phantomhive since his reappearance announced by the media. But Lukas Phantomhive was known by a different name, or at least the last time Joker had met him: Number Six. And he knew Lukas's history, as a trained assassin, undertaking special missions, killing many.

Joker had also killed a few people in the name of Father. Anyone whom Father deemed a threat to him or his plans, was targeted - and it could be anyone from politicians to wealthy philanthropists or anyone else. But only Father knew the fullness of his plans, and Joker did not risk even asking. Father could get mad. And did get mad, a lot. And hated having his orders questioned. He just did what he was told. Other "children" had questioned him and refused him, and ended up "disappeared".

He greatly disliked being pulled away from his troupe. When he was with them, he had a jolly ol' time performing for people, and he liked to make people feel good, seeing them laugh. His new name was Father's idea, and fit his new life as a circus performer/assassin, when called upon. When he was with his troupe, he dressed appropriately in his performer attire and make-up and spiked his red hair up to appear aflame. But here in London, he dressed conservatively and wore his hair flat. It had been weeks since he had last seen his friends, but now that his mission was complete, he knew he'd seen them again soon!

In a boarding house in mid-town London, Joker climbed the steps to the second floor where Father was living temporarily. Father often moved from place to place for personal reasons, but he always communicated with the troupe where he was staying.

He opened Father's room door at the end of the hallway and inside was a modest looking room, but throughout the room were lavish gratuities, gifts, sent from all his children for Father's birthday. And Joker cringed, forgetting to bring a present other than what he had brought that Father asked for.

Father sat in a wheelchair with his back to the door, facing a large buttress-size window looking out over the streets of a bustling London marketplace. Father's head was wrapped in bandages, much like the rest of his body. He was always having surgery for some reason or another, but Joker was never told why.

The man who had rescued Rik Richardson from a life of dissolution - Bryon Kelvin - was gone. After he began to have countless surgeries, Father was born - and so was Joker - and with Father's kind, sweet, old man demeanor slowly disappearing, so did his kind and caring manner. Father soon became totalitarian in his plight to control all aspects of his planning and used his children as his minions. Joker didn't like this, but nor could be betray the man who saved his life. He quickly put these misfeelings out of his mind.

"Father?" he said.

"Do you have it?"

"Yay, Father. I was able to abscond with it when the Phantomhive butler was distracted during a private entanglement. I observed Lukas Phantomhive like you said, say others."

Father didn't reply.

Joker took this lack of an answer to retrieve what Father had wanted him to get, what he had been told to, when it was revealed what Father's nephew was in possession of. He reached into his black cape, into his coat pocket, pulling out a small blue diamond gem. Joker gazed longingly at it. He held it in forefinger and thumb of his left hand and it sparkled from natural sunlight that shone through the buttress window.

"It is very beautiful," Joker started to say.

"Give it to me!" Father demanded.

The harsh tone of Father's voice made Joker jump startled. He swallowed nervously. "Yes, Father."

Joker went around in front of Father and gasped slightly when he saw what he at first thought was a little toy girl doll sitting in Father's lap, but with a closer look was indeed a little human girl about eight years old, with skin as shiny as a polished store bought doll. Her long, blond hair was perfect; her little white dress had no winkles or ceases; and her face had no expression. Even her eyes looked lifeless, and yet were fully open - but she didn't look "awake". She appeared to be in a brainwashed state.

_The Doctor,_ Joker thought. That sinister man! The man knew so many brainwashing techniques.

Lukas Phantomhive had been one of his earlier subjects, until he began to break his programming. Joker heard if you brainwash a person too much, their mind began to become scrambled like eggs and it can no longer be done. This is what happened to Lukas Phantomhive - Number Six. He was later slated to "disappear" before he "escaped" - or was rather released from his cage by Mathu Kelvin, Father's nephew - and later found his way to his brother, Ciel Phantomhive, for reasons not revealed to him. Joker was just ordered to follow him and report his findings, and to retrieve "it" when the opportunity arose.

"Remove this thing," Father ordered. Joker gently took the little girl off Father's lap and placed her on the floor next to a wall. He didn't know this girl, she was most likely a new acquisition, but it was none of his concern. Notwithstanding, he was momentarily shocked with Father's notation of a human being called a "thing".

He handled Father the blue gem.

Father literally snatched it from Joker's hand, and smiled when he held the blue gem in his left hand, forefinger and thumb. It was only a small thing, but it seemed to make Father _very_ happy, which perhaps would make up for not bringing a separate gift for his birthday. He forgot how old Father was, however.

Father's bandages stretched with a broad smile. His entire face was nearly covered, including his right eye. Unlike for Joker, the diamond did not seem to sparkle for Father, but he was pleased nonetheless.

"Yes! I finally have a piece of the infamous Hope Diamond!" Father said. Joker knew Father was well-educated, and spoke as such. Unlike himself, having very little proper education. "One of a few handful that went missing over a hundred year span, cut from the original diamond which was later returned back to France after the revolutionary wars, and supposedly cursed." Father seemed to bask in an invisible energy emanating from the diamond shard that only he could feel and see. It was then that Joker observed Father, by his sinister expression, begin to feed off a darkness from the gem, that made Joker suddenly shiver.

"The Hope Diamond?" Joker asked.

Father's expression turned stern. "It does not concern you. But become more educated on history, it will serve you well in the future."

Joker nodded. "Yay, I will try. Forgive me for asking an impertinent question. Alas, there are events in regard to this diamond that you should be aware, events of a most sinister nature that I witnessed."

Father eyed him with intrigue. "Speak!" Joker recounted the events as witnessed. Afterwards, Father mused for a moment, digesting all that he had been told. "I was aware my nephew was in possession of this shard, but I am surprised to hear of his demise, possessed by a sinister entity, and then killed by the Phantomhive's butler." He nodded. "That would explain Mathu's, and the other's survival, after the Great Death at the amphitheatre where everyone else were killed quite brutally, which even now remains unexplained. But you say that Sebastian Michealis, himself, exhibited superhuman strength and abilities?"

"Yay, Father. They called him a demon, and something of a demonic source - I could not quite see it all - pulled your nephew down into the ground within the square, after the white stones were scattered afar."

Father laughed. "I always said my nephew was going to Hell for his sins." Father smiled again, gazing deeply at the blue diamond shard. "If what you speak is truth, then this piece of the Hope Diamond is fused with a dark, sinister energy unbeknownst to mankind! And it's mine! All mine!"

He laughed loud and heartedly.

Joker gulped fretfully. He didn't know what Father intended for this blue, "evil" diamond, but he was starting to feel that he should not have retrieved it.

That perhaps, it was better off left lost.

* * *

_**THE END of "His Butler With Two Masters"...**_

_**But look for more stories coming soon.**_


	33. Bonus Story: Assassin's Creed Part 1

_**BONUS STORY: "ASSASSIN'S CREED" (PART 1)**_

The ruins of the ancient Roman Colosseum, in Rome, Italy, have been crumbling for years. Half of its structure has fallen in years' past from natural disasters that have plagued the small country, and one earthquake in particular that struck Italy in this region caused extensive damage to the southern upper tier wall, causing it to crash down in 847 A.D.E.. Debris was still present within and without the once glorious monument to Rome's mighty civilization.

Rome itself, fell to the continued influx of immigration that eventually destroyed its proud people and its rich culture, and the berth of Christianity, turning Rome from a polytheism religion to a monotheism one. Never did it recover to the essence of Julius Ceasar's Rome or that of Octavian after him, and eventually, according to antiquity, its magnificence as well as its people, becoming conquered continuously by a multitude of invading armies over time, surrendered the mighty city to the the unforgiving hourglass of Time.

But history did not concern Dietrich Heimlich at the moment, and as he traveled through the streets in a horse and carriage, driven by a trusted driver, all his mind could think about was murder. Who had murdered his good friend Vincent Phantomhive? And for what reason?

Investigations by Scotland Yard, England's detective agency, had labeled it a tragic accident caused by an unsupervised fireplace, whereas a log had rolled out and set fire to the carpet in the Sitting Room, while the Phantomhive's, minus their ten year old son Ciel, were sleeping...and both were burned beyond recognition. It appeared that Ciel had also perished in the fire, but his body was never found.

But Dietrich suspected more.

It had been too much of a coincidence to be an accident, especially when the Phantomhive's had so many enemies being the Queen's loyal guard dogs, protecting the Crown from threats. Unfortunately, albeit tragic, like all things, it appeared they were unable to protect themselves from a hidden threat, and their luck finally ran out. Dietrich had a list of suspects, but he had not had time to investigation them yet.

One name topped the list: Bryon Kelvin, the recluse philanthropist, who had once visited the mansion during a social gathering and met Vincent Phantomhive and other guests, including Dietrich himself, for one of many of the Phantomhive's lavish parties at their mansion. Guests normally included various social elite of England's posh and high ranking society. Bryon Kelvin had arrived by a mistaken invitation delivered to the wrong address. However, he was never told this…notwithstanding, it was a happenstance encounter that did provide beneficial to Vincent. Or so he thought at the time.

Vincent's son, Lukas, Ciel's fraternal twin, was afflicted with a deformity to his face, caused by an adverse reaction to medicine and needed plastic surgery to correct it.

Bryon Kelvin said he knew of a prominent surgeon who could perform the operation, and this doctor had the credentials to do so. Vincent had never met the man, but Dr. Charles Hathaway was a renown surgeon who had performed countless successful operations in this particular surgical field. It was the perfect opportunity to fix his son and have him live a normal life.

It was also a way for Vincent to save face from the embarrassment of having an ugly son, while his other son was the embodiment of beautification, for a boy. He hoped one day both his sons will grow up, marry, and replenish the Phantomhive lineage, as Vincent and his two sons were the only true blood left - other than Chlaus, of course, Vincent's elder brother, born on Germany, but later raised in England, and named after a close and personal friend of his father's. But Chlaus was a womanizer and didn't have any children; this didn't worry Dietrich in particular, but it did make him sole heir to the Phantomhive fortune now.

When tragedy befell Lukas when he suffered failure during the operation and died, Rachel, Vincent's wife, blamed Bryon Kelvin for the death of her son, but Vincent, of a sort, defended Kelvin, saying Kelvin could not have known Lukas was not strong enough to handle the stress of the operation. Dietrich would have agreed with his friend if Kelvin didn't mysteriously disappear after Lukas's death, along with the doctor.

Strangely enough, this was also when the kidnappings of London's children began to escalate to a degree unseen. Children had disappeared before, on occasion, months apart, but never to this level. And Vincent and Rachel had, on many times, fed by tips and by the Queen's decree, went after the kidnappers. Where they discovered, prior to Lukas's death, that two serial killers named Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt were involved, and were hired to kidnap the children, and were using them as an army of brainwashed killers.

Vincent had thought long on the kidnapped children case and he suspected Bryon Kelvin may have been involved in some fashion, based on the deaths of some orphaned children Bryon had sponsored turning up in horrid ways, self-inflicted. Vincent had formed a theory and had telegraphed the assistance of some his close trusted friends to met him, Dietrich included. But the meeting never took place when it was learned the Phantomhive mansion had burned to the ground with Vincent and Rachel's bodies charred to near ash just six days shy of the meeting.

Had the telegram been intercepted or had the message Vincent sent fallen on the eyes of spies and into the hands of his enemies - or perhaps just one enemy - to cause Vincent and Rachel's demise?

The message only said:

**ARRIVE 20****TH**** OF DECEMBER. IMPORTANT NEWS. FOUND TRUTH ABOUT B.K.!**

It was a vague invite, but Dietrich knew what it meant.

Scotland Yard had yielded nothing in the case, but Dietrich, with others, had a theory of their own. And this was the reason why he had chosen to met secretly with Chlaus in Rome, Italy, after he received a letter. Dietrich received the letter at his residence in Germany.

The letter read in short:

_**"My dear friend, Dietrich;**_

_**It has recently come to my attention that my brother's theory about Bryon Kelvin was more correct than surmised. I also believe he is also some how behind the children kidnappings in London, and in such, may have murdered my brother to keep it a secret. We must meet to discuss this further. Come to my residence in Italy, near the Piazza del Colosseo, at your earliest convenience.**_

_**Signed,**_

_**Your friend, ("AofE");**_

_**Chlaus Phantomhive."**_

It has arrived with the Phantomhive wax stamp, sealed on the back.

Chlaus didn't need to tell Dietrich where he exactly he lived other than near the Roman Colosseum; which house number, for it was common to him. Chlaus had moved to Italy because he enjoyed its serenity. And just in case the letter was intercepted, Chlaus's residence address would be safe from unsavory eyes. The tone of the letter also indicated something nefarious against Chlaus, because now he was the last remaining Phantomhive. But Dietrich just believed his friend was being paranoid. Why would anyone want to murder Chlaus? He had nothing to do with his brother's situation?

The horse and carriage pulled up to a dapper looking, two-story house, about a ten minute walk to the Colosseum. The Colisseum's structure towered the landscape, once home to gladiatorial games and other blood sport. Chlaus had built a modest home deep in the heart of Italy's _solid ground community_. He didn't like the water, where quite a few buildings had been constructed to accommodate the warf's and other water businesses, even homes, near-by. Chlaus always like to keep his feet sturdy beneath him.

Being a military man, Dietrich had no preference for any particular terrain; land, sea or air. But there wasn't much cause for sea or air, because most of all fighting was done by soldiers in the field, albeit specialized war machines and artillery, that can slaughter an enemy with swift efficiency. But he preferred to his get his hands dirty with hand-to-hand combat, killing nearly a hundred men, and as a colonel, had been awarded the Iron Cross, the highest distinction to recognize extreme battlefield bravery or successful battlefield leadership, for which he proved he to be the master of both. And to date, he was the most highly decorated officer in the Germanic army wearing his metals proudly.

The Prussians, the French, even the Russians all included fronts to conquer. One massive swift advance into either one of their territories would bring Germany additional land to expand their ever growing population. But when the Treaty of Frankfurt came to pass, it left a very soul taste in his mouth. It alluded to cowardness, the French hiding behind Germanic forces. It didn't make France popular and they received a lot of hostility for it, aligning with Germany, but they felt it was best for their continued survival and it prevented continued, unwanted war against their already battered nation.

But Dietrich refused to learn a word of French!

He paid the driver, collected a bag, and the horse and carriage trotted off, leaving him alone in front of Chlaus's home. The sun was setting, and the entire front of the house was cast in shadow. Odd, however, that not one light was on, seen through the windows. But perhaps the butler was in the process of doing so?

Rapping his knuckles on the front door, he waited patiently for the butler to answer. But after a minute, no one did. He rapped again, waited for a minute, but again, no one came to the door.

He turned the handle to the door and surprisingly found it insecure, the tongue of the lock was not even inserted into the side of the door frame.

He pulled out his pistol and slowly opened the door. The main vestibule was dark, too dark to be natural. In fact, he saw no lights on at all, and no servants anywhere. However, the first thing he suspected wasn't fool play, but a break-in, seeing no one. But if so, then the door lock would be broken, not just left open.

He ventured forward into the dark and stumbled slightly when he boot hit a heavy object. He reached into his jacket pocket and took out a box of matches, striking one. His eyes narrowed when he saw a body lying on the floor. It was the butler with his throat slashed. He saw the maid not far off in the same condition. Blood pooling the floor.

_Chlaus_, he thought. _I hope you're not…_

Venturing around the rest of the house slowly, he eventually climbed up a flight of stairs to the second floor, where he found himself faced with three doors: the guest quarters, the main quarters and the water-closet, and each door was closed. He could search each one, but he had a feeling he only needed to go into one.

He struck another match and opened the main quarters, it was dark. Gazing cautiously around the room, here he found his friend in bed with a second body, both stabbed. Blood saturated the bed sheet. They appeared to be naked, either stabbed in their sleep or in the act of copulation.

"Oh Chlaus…" he whispered. And then looked upon the woman. "Lady Carolyne?"

Both had been members of Vincent's secret sect of aristocrats, an elite group formed in London, to be a second line of defense against a shadowy evil Vincent foresaw coming to _his_ world in the near future, along with Dietrich and three others, including Tanaka, Vincent's butler. Vincent had allied himself with friends he had made in his travels aboard and within London to help protect his family and his interests. The Phantomhive's used to be a widespread family, but had dwindled down to just the pureblood of Vincent and his two sons, each prior family member tragically dying off from mysterious circumstances. Now the Phantomhive's were no more. Chlaus had been the last of their line, with Lukas dying three years earlier and Ciel disappeared and presumed dead.

But Dietrich had no idea that Chlaus and Lady Carolyne Eastbrook were involved. That was a surprise.

Lady Carolyne was a pioneer woman of power in her own rite, a strong-willed woman with a savvy business sense. Along with others, she helped form Vincent's elite group of world-wide contacts, which also aided in Vincent's business ventures, and the reason why _Fantom Co._ was a very prominent company. Each one of Vincent's allies were very powerful and helped Vincent reach the four corners of the globe, which some say only added fuel to the rumor that he was the leader to a group called the "Aristocrats of Evil", because it appeared Vincent was attempting to blanket the world, allying himself with influential people in power. But that was how the world worked and how the most powerful survived and the weak perished.

But if Chlaus and Lady Carolyne's deaths were any indication, someone knew of their connection to Vincent's network and had murdered them to try to end it.

But who? And who murdered his friends?

The blood smelled fresh, so they had not been dead long.

Something jumped aloft next to him to the bed and he jerked startled, pointing his pistol at it. Then he breathed easy when it was Chlaus's pet cat, a white Himalayan Persian, Sabby, which he named after Vincent's Russian bloodhound Sebastian, that had also died in the mansion's fire. It meowed at him, unfazed by the death of his owner, or had not noticed yet.

"If only you could talk, you would tell me who did this," Dietrich said.

The glint of metal caught his eye in a corner of the quarters, brought about by the struck match he held. He aimed his pistol at it instinctively. Then something sliced through the pistol barrel with the sharp, sheer precision of a blade.

_The assassin!_

He threw away the match, casting the room back into pure darkness, then reached into his jacket and unsheathed a bayonet, a small German sword half that of standard size. It was perfect for close combat. No military man was ever unarmed, carrying more than one weapon in his arsenal. He backed away and then yanked the curtains open, which had been shut, casting some illumination into the room, and was surprised to find a tiny man holding a bayonet of his own. A midget assassin?

Light cast half the assassin's face to show.

_No, not a midget…a boy? _He looked to be no more then ten years of age. "Did you do this boy?" Dietrich demanded, holding his bayonet in offensive posture. But the boy didn't respond, and merely gazed at Dietrich with dark, sinister eyes. "Who are you? I'll make you pay for this!"

But the boy quickly fled out the door and down the stairs, as he had been seen.

"Come back here boy!"

Dietrich followed the boy, albeit cautiously, but saw the boy flee out the front door of the house. Reaching the threshold, Dietrich saw the boy run down the road into an alleyway of some close-quarter, two-story, semi-detached houses, the worker-class of Italy, and followed him.

He ran through a midst of winding labyrinth alleyways hidden between the worker houses and cast in very little light. But the boy was much too fast and he escaped through an thin alcove just his size, that Dietrich knew he could not follow. And Dietrich cursed himself that he was not a younger man so he could catch the boy. Who ever this boy was and who he worked for, had trained him well. He had all the instincts and speed and stealth of an elite fighter and assassin.

Dietrich turned, and soon found himself in a precautious position. He allowed himself to be lured into unknown territory, and when he looked around, all the alleyways looked the same. He had been following the boy, but he had not paid attention of his whereabouts, or how to return back to the starting point.

The boy was either very smart, or he had been foolish to fall for such an obvious ploy. And for a military man, _that_ was embarrassing. But he saw the towering structure of the Roman Colosseum ahead, and much like sailors followed the position of the stars, he too followed this beacon of escape, and soon found himself in open ground, standing close to the famous monument, with the moon casting a white luminous through one of its buttress windows.

He knew where he was now and could make it back to Chlaus's house. It was too bad the assassin had escaped…

He turned around, and suddenly found himself facing the barrel of a pistol aimed up at his face, the assassin boy glaring at him with glacial, blue eyes, a slight shadow across one half of his face still casting doubt on an identity.

Dietrich raised his arms in surrender, still with his bayonet in hand. "Easy boy, you don't want to use that," he said. The moon shifted its glow, as it emerged from surrounding cloud cover, and suddenly the boy's face became fully apparent.

Dietrich gasped in utter shock. "You? But we thought you were dead?"

The last thing Dietrich saw was the spark of the flint-lock of the pistol ignite.

**To be continued…**


	34. Bonus Story: Assassin's Creed Part 2

**BONUS STORY: "ASSASSIN'S CREED" (PART 2)**

The magnificent, stone built castle that belonged to a wealthy Scottish lord was at the top of a long winding path in the Highlands of Scotland, surrounded by glass fields are far as the eye could see.

Lord Ryan Hardgrove was a recluse, but he was very known for his charitable nature. His money came from gold and other precarious metals that he invested in economical growth of a great many things…most of which was war, as there was always fighting some where in the world at any time. Peace was bad for business. He enjoyed the nature of war and was also a gambler of it, but a moderate one. He always enjoyed a good wager, as long as it mainly benefited him. And the best thing to bet on was life itself.

So when the assassin first entered his castle, he wagered it wouldn't take long for this…person…to reach him, and Hardgrove was more than ready for him.

Through air passageways in the castle, specially crafted to carry sound, he could hear everything that was happening, anywhere in the castle, relyed to his favorite room and private sanctum. And what he heard was death. The assassin was killing his servants with ease, with bloodlust. His castle rooms were filling up with dead bodies, saturated with blood and gore. This assassin was definitely on a mission. By whom, Hardgrove could only speculate. But he only had one man in mind.

The same man who probably sent this same assassin to kill his friends in London and Rome. Word had come to him by witnesses who saw a small _boy_ killing Dietrich in the street outside the Colosseum of Rome with a pistol, a single shot to the head, and the Italian police reported finding Chlaus with Lady Carolyne in bed together stabbed to death by some sort of small sword. Before them was Vincent Phantomhive and his beautiful wife burned to death in a fire that also took their mansion and their son Ciel.

Vincent Phantomhive had a second son, the fraternal twin of Ciel, but he died three years earlier during a botched plastic surgery operation that would have restored his face back to normal, from a deformity caused by an adverse reaction to some asthmatic medicine the boy took that didn't belong to him. The curiosity of some kids is unfathomable. But it provided a keen opportunity for Vincent, since his sons looked different. Ciel was beautiful for a boy, while Lukas had a plain look, almost ugly face. This was a grand way to fix Lukas and make him look like Ciel. Beautiful people always went further on life, it was a fact.

Lord Hardgrove took a sip of brandy from a small, crystal wine glass, and then put it down on a small round table standing next to his plaid, dark green, high back chair that he sat in. It faced the Game Room's ablaze fireplace. The room was a vast reminder of how he loved a good sport. The walls were mounted with animal heads, weaponry, and had a wide variety of games, including a large billiard table in the middle.

But by far his favorite game was golf. And by betting on his own played games, he had gained a reputation as a master golfer - and in Scotland, that was a huge honor. He was in his mid-thirties, but looked very young for his age. He was a prominent entrepreneur and a renown sportsman. He allied himself with Vincent Phantomhive not only for the man's stature and savvy business sense, but also for his love of sport.

The sport of hunting men to death.

And if this assassin had it in for him, the game was on!

The door to his inner sanctum opened, it creaked slightly. His chair was faced away from the door, so he could not see the assassin directly, but there was a mirror on top of the fireplace that was angled perfectly for him to see the _boy's_ reflection. He straightened his green, checkered golfers cap, and took another sip of his brandy, as he watched the boy approach him cautiously, as if to creep up on him. A flint-lock pistol, and what looked like a small samurai sword called a Tanto, if he recalled, covered in blood, were in each hand. Ideally, both weapons the boy had used to murder his friends?

"Good evening, dear lad," Hardgrove spoke. The boy halted in his tracks, focusing on the chair. "So you finally made it to me, old boy?" Hardgrove's English born accent fazed through, despite living in Scotland most of his life. "Heed my warning, assassin child, I am a great deal more game than the others…"

He stood up, his youthful appearance must have confused the boy. With Hardgrove always, he carried his favorite golf club and he held it casually. But inside held a deadly secret. "Expecting someone a little older, were you child? Well, wisdom comes to he who embraces his natural talents, not what others tell you."

The boy did not move, as if expecting some sort of attack. Hardgrove smirked. "Did you enjoy your tour of the castle, old sport, when you slaughtered all my servants. They are, indeed, replaceable, but they surely were cows to _you_. I, surely, will be a great deal harder to kill!"

Hardgrove snapped his fingers, and two dark-skin African Zulu warriors dressed in full dress that were standing on platforms posing as statues on either side of the room - guards for his protection - stepped off, sporting every weapon assorted to their culture. One branded a large, thick blade, metal sword, and the other wielded a massive wooded club with tiny spikes embedded in the hardwood. Hardgrove knew each of these men, posing as Zula warriors, were trained in an assortment of offensive and brutal attacks.

"Shall we make a wager, dear boy? Heads I win? Tails you lose?"

The assassin-boy glared at Hardgrove with glacial, blue eyes. The boy tossed the pistol away and stuck the Tanto in the floor next to him. Was he surrendering his weapons? Or was he preparing a defense?

"Amazing, you look _just_ like _him_, with one small difference, however - you're _not_! I know _he_ died with his parents in the fire. _Kill him_!" Hardgrove pointed at the boy with his golf-club, and the warriors attacked.

The boy fled under the billiard's table, and the warriors stabbed underneath to wound him or draw him out. But the boy was much too fast and limber and scooted out into open ground quickly, back to where he started. One warrior slammed his club onto the billiard's table doing damage, but Hardgrove merely laughed with amusement. The table was nothing to him, merely money.

"You are fun sport!" he said. He stepped to the edge of the billiard's table and reached underneath, pressing a button. A second door slid shut, blocking the door out. A device he installed with switches and pullies for his safety if someone wanted in, now it would _keep_ this assassin in so he could not flee.

The warrior with the sword swung at the boy, but the boy ducked and because of his short stature it was easy to avoid the attack. The sword got embedded into the nearest wall. The warrior with the club rose his weapon aloft and brought it down hard upon a display glass table that the boy was standing next to, showcasing African memorabilia and trinkets that Hardgrove had picked up during a trip aboard. They meant nothing to him either.

"Righto sport, old man! This is so much fun! My turn!"

He brought up his golf club, straightening it at the boy like a musket - who was now standing next to an actual statuesque of a Zulu, bare-breasted female Hardgrove had fashioned after a woman he copulated with and then had killed, because to have sex with a "_darky",_ and to have that tryst exposed to the public, would ruin his _shining_ reputation; Chlaus had been the womanizer, Hardgrove had just found her sexy and needed his stick waxed at the time - opened up the bottom panel of the club with a hidden switch on the top handle, and pressed the firing pin.

The blast rocked through the air like an elephant gun and destroyed the statue, obliterating it completely from wrist high, debris flew everywhere. The warriors shyed away from the shot and fallen debris. Hardgrove had been thrown back from the recoil, dropping his golf, but laughed.

Unfortunately he had missed the boy, when the boy leapt out of the way like some sort of monkey.

"I wish you would stop jumping around, old man, you made me miss, and I did enjoy lusting after that harlet of a she-devil. She was one of my greatest conquests. I have her eyes in a jar somewhere…they were so beautiful, I just had to have them."

The boy fled underneath the billiard's table once more, and then raced between Hardgrove's legs after fleeing the two warriors' latest attacks, running to Hardgrove's chair. The boy kept the chair between him and Hardgrove. Hardgrove shook his head. "Dear boy, if you wish to play hide and seek, I'm afraid that is one game I am too old for. Not come out here and be killed like a…"

The boy looked at the half wine glass of brandy and then smiled a sinister grin when he briefly glanced back at the fireplace. Hardgrove frowned. "You wouldn't dare, kid. Brandy is like nitro, highly combustible. Throw that in there and it will explode!"

The chair was blocking the boy's sight of Hardgrove's hands. Hardgrove slowly pulled out a small blade, a hunter's knife, that he kept on his person at all times, sheathed in a brown, leather holder, and calculated the distance to throw it at the boy. A hunter always needed a keen, mathematical mind to outwit his prey. And above all else, no one touched another man's brandy.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Hardgrove saw one warrior was creeping up from the left side of the boy, but Hardgrove and the other warrior seemed to be keeping the boy's attention because it appeared the boy was not noticing his cautious approach - until the warrior leapt towards the boy without Hardgrove's order. The boy threw the Brandy into the fireplace, raced away, and the liquid caused a large explosion, setting the warrior ablaze. Hardgrove sheltered his face, turning away from the blinding explosion. The second warrior used a carpet to douse the first warrior, who was too badly burned to survive. His skin too charred.

Hardgrove's favorite chair had also been destroyed beyond salvation, blacked with sooth and charred.

"Forget about him!" Hardgrove said, rubbing his eyes, restoring his sight, gritting his teeth in anger. "Kill the brat!"

The second warrior left his partner and ran after the boy towards the other end of the room. The boy had made it to the far end of the billiard's table and appeared to be ready for the warrior's attack, and snatched a billiard ball from the table. He threw it as hard as he could at the warrior, hitting him with enough impact that the concussion dropped him down like a stone, killing him instantly.

Hardgrove's jaw dropped, then he sneered. The man had been killed by the black 8 ball, the unluckiest ball in the entire set. If you sank this ball, you lost your turn. "Not sporting, old man. Billiard's is a gentleman's game, not for killing your opponents. But what would a _child_ know about playing fair?" Hardgrove smiled spontaneously. "I see now the real game has truly begun. Time to get serious."

The assassin-boy retrieved his Tanto sword and held in offensive posture. Hardgrove didn't have his golf club, albeit it was still useful even without the shot, but he didn't need it. He returned to the billiard's table and lifted a secret panel in the hardwood border, and pressed a switch.

The entire table flipped over revealing a metallic, large round disc with a hole in the middle with wires and switches attached to the bottom of the table. And with a flick of a switch, he turned it on. The boy, sword in hand, went flying through the air to it, and the blade of the weapon clung hard to the self-generating magnetic field the disc suddenly produced. The sword's metallic flat edge stuck to it like glue.

The boy tried to yank it off the magnet, but to no avail.

"Tsk, tsk, ol' boy. Your weapons have no favor here. This is a magnet, one of the most powerful in the world, brought to life by the Industrial Revolution. Such righteous technology! I foresee it will be used to generate power for hundreds in the near future, if properly utilized. It can also be used for destructive purposes, if fortified properly as well. And you spoiled such an uprising when you began murdering my friends. Tell me, old man, did you also _murder_ Vincent Phantomhive and his beautiful wife, with this same face of his son Ciel that you now steal?"

The boy narrowed his eyes, tilted his head, as if confused by Hardgrove's accusation. "I am Number Six," the boy finally said. "And I am not old; you are annoying!"

"Pay it no mind, boy, it is just something I have been come accustomed to saying, with other phrases," Hardgrove said. "Notwithstanding, Number Six you say?"

The boy backed away when Hardgrove went for his golf club with the edge blown out that was laying on the floor near the billiard's table. He had dropped it when he had recoiled from the blast of its shot. The club end of it looked more like a garden hoe than a golf club now, but it would be more than he would need. The boy's flint-lock pistol was empty and his Tanto was magnetically secured, so he was empty-handed.

"Then your _name_ is appropriate, for after I kill you, I will bury you six-feet under!"

And he swung at the boy with his aluminum club. Aluminum was a metal, but it was not as magnetic as plain steel like the Tanto, so the magnetic field had little effect on it. And besides, the power of the magnetic was not turned up that high. Just enough for it to keep the Tanto's steel blade at bay.

But the boy easily avoided the strike, ducking under the table.

The billiard balls had spilled out onto the floor when the table was turned and with one stomp on his foot, the boy used one ball as a weapon like a hammer. Hardgrove swore and favored his foot. Then he was hit in the left chin with a cue from underneath that had also fallen, and he swore again, favoring his other leg. "Your little kid games are over! I'm going to murder you!"

The boy popped up at the end of the billiard's table where the control panel was, examined it quickly, and flicked a switch, turning up the power.

Hardgrove's aluminum golf club then became magnetized to the table. He himself was then yanked forward when a pocket watch attached to a chain that was in his vest pocket also became stuck to the table. It kept him down, magnetically stuck by way through his clothes fabric. He tried to break free, unable to. He even tried wiggling away, hoping the watch would pull itself out of his pocket, but the pocket was deep, it was of no use. And his chest was so hard-pressed to the magnet, that he could not even unbutton his vest.

He was trapped, at the mercy of his child assassin, but he showed no fear. "Nice show, old boy. You managed to avert all my tricks and use my own weapon against me, it appears the game is yours. So, what now?" Hardgrove looked at the boy with an examining eye. "Remarkable job, who did it? Your face looks just like _him_. Unless, you really _are_ him? Tell me something, old bean, did Bryon Kelvin brainwash you and send you to kill me like he did the others?" But the boy's reaction to the question was non-existent. "It matters not. Even if you kill me, Bryon Kelvin will get his upcomings. My brother will avenge me. You won't kill him. No one has been able to out-best him in a duel. Not even Vincent Phantomhive. It was no wonder Vulcan became Vincent's personal protector, up until Vincent died, that is."

Hardgrove saw the boy walk over to his chair and pick up the hunting knife that Hardgrove had dropped when the fireplace exploded. "How unsporting, old man. Do you plan to kill me with my own hunting knife?"

The boy also picked up a scrap of clothing from the dead warrior he had killed with the billiard's ball and then bunched it into a pile on Hardgrove's upper back. Hardgrove didn't know what the boy was doing. The boy came back into full sight and stood next to the control panel of the magnet.

"Hey, what are you doing, my dear boy?" He then noticed the boy no longer had the knife, and Hardgrove fretted where the boy had put it - within the bunched up cloth on his back? He fretted how he was going to die. He shook his head. "No, boy, don't do it. I beg you! If you do that - "

But the boy didn't listen, and he switched the magnet to full.

And the last thing Lord Ryan Hargrove felt was the blade of his own hunter's knife course through his back to penetrate his heart, as the full-force of the magnetic field sucked the weapon's blade to the magnet's core.

**To be continued…**


	35. Bonus Story: Assassin's Creed Part 3

**BONUS STORY: "ASSASSIN'S CREED" (PART 3)**

A heavily bandaged man sat in a wheelchair and rolled through an underground complex to an "operation centre" by a tall man with black hair and glasses wearing a white lab coat simply referred to as the Doctor. The heavily bandaged man also had a man, but since his transformation from his other self to a new, improved man, he had relinquished his former life for a future he saw brimming with opportunity. A future where he saw London, England, his birth place, and its ruler, Queen Victoria, resign to a new rule and sovereign, when his plans were brought to fruition. As for now, things were only in the planning stage.

He had had eliminated most of his enemies, thanks in part to an obedient assassin he named "Number Six"; an identification number only, among other of _his children_ who were also little killers. But Number Six was exceptionally special to him and was in fact his favorite. He was _now_ the embodiment of beautification and strength, much like his parents _were_…parents who abandoned him because he didn't look _right_: Beautiful. Father took care of that, and faked the boy's death, and eventually gave the boy's parents their uncomings for transgressions against him, setting fire to their mansion. It was still unknown who had actually killed Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive, none of his little killers had taken credit for it, but their bodies were burned to ash in the fire - that was all that mattered. Their deaths, as well as those of Vincent's "Aristocrats of Evil", as they were penned, only served to show that Father's future was shining bright, and that good _always_ conquered evil.

_His_ good…

In the main room of the complex - the operation centre - other men and women busied themselves in lab experiments and other things, engaged in projects of Father's approval, and in a specially made chair of Father's design, sat Number Six. He did not need to be strapped down as his loyalty was unquestioned. He sat properly with a straight back and his arms on the arm-rests in this chair made of metal and stared into a kaleidoscope wheel that spung on a wall, powered by electricity. In each of the fourteen different colored sections of the kaleidoscope were words that formed Number Six's "assassin's creed", per sa.

The device worked on two levels: 1) the part of the human brain used for creativity, it focused on the colors; and 2) the words abated to the logical part of the brain, focused on understanding and learning. So together, the kaleidoscope utilized both levels of the brain effectively to their most optimum levels.

The kaleidoscope was like a "motion" picture - which was a revolutionary concept, although China had an interesting version of a spinning environment with a stationary figure like a horse, and with enough spin, it appeared the horse was moving. But with this "motion" picture concept, the eyes focused in on the words while the kaleidoscope spun, colors blurred, but the words, with unfocused eyes, became clear, and brought the words out of their single slots of the kaleidoscope into the assassin's reinforced creed. This continued reinforcement continued Number Six's complete and unbinding loyalty.

_"Come hereto my knight and kill for me; you are mine - now and forever!" _Father mentally recited.

It was designed so no one could just accidentally blurt it out and take control of his assassin and order him to turn against Father. He had originally considered making the assassin's creed a nursery rhyme like from a line from _Old Mother Hubbard_ or _The Old Woman Who Lived In a Shoe_, but that would be too easy for someone to accidentally say, especially a child, and Number Six's programming would become inert, or would be broken. And if for whatever reason, he managed to recover his "true" identity on his own, the programming broken, the creed would become ineffective and thus the programmer's name - Father's true name - would be lost forever to Number Six's unconscious mind. It was a safety switch, per sa, to protect Father from retribution, and from the like of the rest of _his children _- bringing about amnesia of the past.

Father had surrounded himself with indeed a great deal of smart and inventive men.

The doctor wheeled Father over to Number Six, snapped his fingers, and someone turned off the kaleidoscope. Number Six turned his head slightly and looked at Father.

"You did well, my child," Father said. "All but two of the Aristocrats of Evil are dead. You are proficient as is your trainer." Number Six remained silent. But Father didn't need a "thank you". "But your next opponent will be by far most challenging. He was an associate of one of my enemies, also an enforcer. Your mission is to eliminate him as well. Another will give you the particulars of his possible whereabouts, after a suitable resting period and food. My little assassin must keep up his energy."

Number Six nodded acceptingly, as if it were an order.

"That's a good boy," Father said proudly. "Number Six."

"The next batch have arrived, sir," the Doctor said. "The twins have collected more _subjects_."

"I am pleased Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt are so efficient," Father said. When the Doctor turned him around and wheeled Father forward, leaving the operations room, they went down an adjacent stone-built hallway to another section of the underground, secret complex. "I am curious, what if they found _him_? If he survived? The boy's body was never found in the ruins of the mansion."

Doctor chuckled. "I think you will be pleasantly surprised," he said.

In a secluded, but large, boxed room - which was also used as a storage area for lab equipment and other things - two young men in bright white suits stood next to a series of cages filled with children. The next batch. Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt were hired to round up "lost" children or destitute children, those that were abandoned or unwanted, and bring them to Father to be utilized for various purposes. These were the kidnapped children of London that plagued the news headlines. Number Six had been acquired in a similar manner, but with a little more cunning and ingenuity, and had been declared legally dead by his parents. While his body was retrieved after his death by his parents, a fake body was handed over. The boy's face brutally scarred and unrecognizable able even to his parents. What a surprise they would have had if they knew the truth about their son's surprising resurrection, if they had lived.

"Is he _here_?" Father demanded.

The twins seemed to look at each other momentarily uncertain what their boss was asking, then Sasha nodded, and pointed out the third cage down the line. "He was living on the streets, but we caught him like the others," the twin said.

Father was wheeled to the small cage, the size used by trappers to keep cougars or other animals of a vicious nature, and saw a small boy with dark, grungy-looking hair, huddled up with his knees to his chest, melancholy and withdraw; his once sweet, deep bluish-purple eyes, downcast to mirror his saddened look.

Father looked closer at the boy and felt disillusioned. This was not the same Ciel Phantomhive he had once thought the essence of beautification of a boy. He had only met the boy once, five years prior at a social engagement arranged by Vincent Phantomhive, but Father could not get Ciel's beautiful face out of his mind, which was why - and bitter sweet to Vincent Phantomhive and his Aristocrats of Evil shunning him from their group because he "was too old and ugly" - his face gave rise to the casting mould for Number Six's new appearance, because an accident had caused a deformity damaging his face and it needed fixing. And the Doctor did an outstanding job in the plastic surgery.

Ciel Phantomhive was nothing to him now, covered in soot and grim and tattered cloths. With his uncle now dead, killed by Number Six, Ciel was the sole heir to the Phantomhive name, but everyone believed he died in the fire than burned his home down and killed his parents, and so it will remain. He was now one of _his children,_ and like others, will be trained to obey his every command, or be discarded like a dead dog.

"The Inner Circle have requested sacrifices for their ritual in five nights time," the Doctor said.

"Very well, this _batch_ is of no use to me anyhow; what a disgusting lot," Father said, waving them off as if they were some unwanted animals. "Even send Ciel Phantomhive, unless you want him…his parents are dead, as well as anyone else who can help him. Number Six will track and eliminate the other two who _belonged_ to Vincent Phantomhive's secret club in due time."

The Doctor leaned in to Father's right ear, and whispered, "You are a jealous man, Bryon Kelvin."

Father - Bryon Kelvin - smirked beneath his bandages, but the sides of his mouth stretched them to show it. "Indeed. As children, we learn an important lesson: We all play or none of us play."

The Doctor agreed. "I'll inform a representative of the Inner Circle to pick whom they would like out of this batch. But may I take a few for myself? I need new _raw_ material for my experiments."

Father nodded. "Your choice. But make sure you reverse the best for _him_."

"I know, sir. He has no right arm. I'm still looking for the perfect candidate."

"See that you do," Father said firmly. "I can not have the leader of my special circus troupe of assassins at a disadvantage."

"Indeed, I will endeavor to keep looking…"

* * *

The man simply referred to as the Doctor stood over a medical stab in a private infirmity and smiled. Then plunged a long sharp, carving knife into the torso of one of his "raw material" subjects, cutting the child from pelvis to chest, who had been laying "unconscious", or rather brainwashed to remain immobile on the stab. He then went about removing organs and other material that he needed for his experiments.

It may have appeared like murder to others, but it was all in the guise of science. And these children were forgotten, abandoned, and in the eyes of the world already dead, so why not use them for a good purpose? And what he could not use was given away for animal food to Bryon Kelvin's nephew to sell to dog owners in an underground dog fighting gambling ring he organized.

And he was still looking for that one perfect candidate for Bryon Kelvin's assassin he called -

There was a scream!

The Doctor startled, nearly dropping an organ he had just removed from his latest subject, stumbling to catch it before it fell to the ground.

He plopped it into a bowl and then turned to the child who had made the scream, still in his cage next to a stone wall. He wiped his hands on his white surgical garb as he told the child to shut-up.

"Stop it! Stop it!" the child raged, continuing his protest. "Those are children!"

The Doctor knew the boy. Ciel Phantomhive. But instead of the melancholy, destitute look he had come in with, the boy now had a hatred burning in his eyes as he clutched the bars of his lonely cage. Bryon Kelvin had given the boy to him for his experiments, but he wanted to save the kid for last.

"You nearly made me drop that heart, kid. Now be quiet or you're next on the table!"

"What you're doing is horrible! Children on not like cows or chickens!"

"You may not be old enough to understand this, kid, but everyone is "slaughtered" in life. Be it in death or in life, from a psychological point of view."

"You mean in their different classes in life?"

The Doctor rose his brow impressed. "Very good. So you do understand. Your father educated you well."

"My father is…" he cleared his throat, "…_was_ a good and smart man. Did you kill him?"

The Doctor shook his head. "I had no hand in your parents' deaths. Notwithstanding, I don't care. My interest is purely in science. And since…my employer has given me subjects to work with, I have made some very interesting discoveries and advancements. I even know how to reattach a severed limb to a body, even years after the skin has sealed over the wound."

The boy tilted his head, as if not knowing how to reply to that. The Doctor figured that the boy had never been exposed to such a thing. Ciel Phantomhive had probably been so isolated to the way of the world that the true reality of it had never been revealed to him. With him in that cage, perhaps now it had.

A knock on the door to his lab gave him just cause for the conversation to end. But he groaned in displeasure. "Why all these interruptions?"

He answered the door, unlocking it first, and yanked it open. He was about to protest the interruption, when he was confronted by a very large, bald and tall man, with a tattoo on the side of his head. He appeared to slump slightly, but it didn't deter his largeness any.

The Doctor cleared his throat. He knew this man, he was a member of Bryon Kelvin's traveling circus troupe, also his most loved band of assassins. He didn't talk much, but he did have the unpleasant nickname "Tiny", which was a play on his size and a non de plume for his circus role. Tiny had been found with others whom Kelvin had found living on the street some years back. Tiny refused to allow Kelvin to take them unless he came along. So, in a way, Tiny were the others' unofficial protector.

"What do you want?" the Doctor asked firmly. Behind him dwarfed another, who suddenly peaked out from behind Tiny, and the Doctor recognized him as well. He normally wore his red hair aflame and spiked and circus make-up as a member of the circus troupe, its leader in fact, but at the moment, he was dressed more conservatively with his hair flatter and parted in the middle wearing a dark cape over his clothes. He had the nickname of Joker, also given to him by Kelvin. "Oh, it's you… Why are you here?"

Joker smiled modestly. "Father requested I come; he says you found a proper candidate to replace my missing limb?" Joker stepped out into the open. His right arm was missing, caused by some unknown happenstance at a young age. Despite being "damaged", Kelvin still kept him and put him in charge of his traveling circus troupe. When the troupe weren't killing people of Kelvin's choosing, they were entertaining the English masses with their clowning and performing acts. It was the perfect cover.

The Doctor furrowed his brow confused. "I have not informed 'Father' of such," referring to Bryon Kelvin's godly title he preferred to use now in front of his children. "He is mistaken."

Joker eyed the Doctor with his own confusion. "But Father said you said - "

"I shall speak to him." The Doctor went out into the corridor, slamming his lab door behind him. He didn't want them to see what was hidden therein.

The three of them went up to the main operations centre one level up, where 'Father' was, in his wheelchair and wrapped in bandages, speaking with another scientist. The Doctor noticed a table in one corner of the room with a white sheet draped over what could only be a dead body beneath. This was only not here the previous evening. It must have just come in? But he ignored it for the time being.

Allocating to the same playdom as _his children,_ he said to Kelvin, "Father, may I speak with you a moment?" Joker and Tiny followed him. Bryon turned his wheelchair around to face them. "There must be some confusion. I still have not found a suitable candidate for Joker's missing limb. He has informed me that - "

"That I have," Bryon finished, and gestured to the table with the dead body beneath.

The Doctor crossed the room to the table and pulled off the sheet. The young man on the table was dead, his body was beginning to decay and smell, but he did appear to be the same height and weight as Joker. The Doctor looked back at Bryon. Where had Bryon acquired this body from? "He is dead…"

"He is just what is needed," Bryon said.

"I prefer my subjects to be living." The Doctor held the right arm of the dead man aloft. The skin was decaying rapidly without oxygen supplying the blood cells to it, turning it a blue hue. "The tissue and muscle are of no use. This arm is worthless."

"Then strip it off."

For the first time, despite all the grotesque things that he had done, performed to other bodies, he was taken aback by what Bryon was suggesting.

"Is there a problem? You have told me the reattachment of a severed limb is of a rather simple operation."

The Doctor composed himself, then nodded. "It can be _done_." He mused a moment, smiling. "To attach the skeletal remains of a severed limb to a living body will be an interesting experiment. An interesting experiment, indeed."

"Joker, do you accept this?" Kelvin said.

Joker seemed to take a moment to wonder about it, looking at the body, then back at Father. Then he nodded, as if refusal of Father's "gift" would be an insult. "Yey, Father. I am honored."

"Then I will prepare immediately," the Doctor said.

"Ah, just in time…" Bryon Kelvin said, looking past them to the entrance of the operation centre. The Doctor turned, as did the others, to the appearance of Number Six. "Joker, may I introduce Number Six. Another one, if not my most successful assassin's to date, present company excluded, if course."

"Hello," Joker said.

"Hello," Number Six said plainly.

"Well rested from your sleep period, my child? Did you eat some food?" Bryon asked. Number Six nodded. "Excellent! Then, the mission I spoke about last evening is waiting for you. And it may be your most difficult one yet. You are to kill Vulcan Hardgrove, enforcer to your late - " He stopped abruptly, as if catching himself before he said something wrong. He smiled. "Enforcer to a great enemy of _mine_!"

**To be continued…**


	36. Bonus Story: Assassin's Creed Part 4

**BONUS STORY: "ASSASSIN'S CREED" (PART 4)**

An abandoned warf warehouse on the edge of the Themes River stood testament to the rare, hard economic times England was experiencing despite the introduction of the Industrial Revolution of machines. Perhaps it was indeed the core reason for the lack of work for the masses? Before, it had been where men and women worked to craft items of sale, _now_ machines could build the same items better and faster and cheaper without money or labor. It was said where there is process there must be sacrifice.

_This_ warf, once a bustling port of activity with workers harvesting shiploads of fish and other material, sat destitute now, to new and improved built facilities run by machines and manned by fewer workers. It was said that machines would make man's work easier, instead it put many men out of work, and the workhouses were full of the homeless including once schooled children who couldn't afford to go. Men even went far as to forge for survival in crime, and in the last couple of years, the jails had seen a thirty percent increase in inmates, where most of the prisoners either worked themselves to death in hard labor camps or starved and froze during the cold winters in their cells.

A good man once said, "_Let the rot of society wallow in their own crafted demise and allow the heartfelt reign over corruption and ill-will; let the masses be policed by the wise and the innocent be cast into the light; leader the meek and educate the strong, but be gentle with each._" - Vincent Phantomhive; said during the very first meeting of his secret sect of aristocrats.

But the rich were the only ones that were managing now, suriving on the backs of the workers. And only two weeks prior, one of England's most prominent citizens and socialites had been struck down by a menacing and shadowy foe. Vincent Phantomhive and his wife and their young son, Ciel, had been murdered by a yet unknown killer, their mansion burned to the ground, and only rumor abound of who had committed the crime. Scotland Yard had no clues to work with, claiming that an unfortunate happenstance occurred - that a fire log may have rolled out of the fireplace and set the mansion ablaze while Vincent and his wife Rachel slept in the Sitting Room, their bodies burned to ash.

But when they sifted through the rumble for which Tanaka, the butler had survived, he told of a strange tale of children running through the mansion just before it went aflame. And the ruins had no indication of Ciel's body. Notwithstanding, like his parents, his body could have been burned to ash somewhere.

As one of Vincent Phantomhive's closest friends, enforcer and protector, he had failed to fulfill his duty to them, and it torn him up inside.

Vincent had set him on an errand that took longer than he had anticipated that day - December 14th. There was a rumor of a man who may have known the identity of the man who continued to kidnap children, but it turned out to be a rouse. And he figured it may have been a purposeful rouse to separate him from Vincent.

Vincent suspected it may have been Bryon Kelvin who kidnapped children, but he had no true evidence, only a theory. But even a word from Vincent in the Queen's ear would send a warrant out for Kelvin's arrest. It was this that had him thinking that Bryon Kelvin may have been involved in the Phantomhive's deaths.

He had received a letter from Chlaus Phantomhive that he too believed Bryon Kelvin was involved in the child kidnappings. But most recently, everyone who had been associated with the special group of aristocrats Vincent had formed to protect England's - and his own - best interests had gone silent. And he wondered why. Even his own brother, Ryan, had not communicated with him lately. He feared the worse. What if Bryon Kelvin, using some nefarious means, had murder them? But he couldn't believe that. Not yet.

So then why was he here? he asked himself. This was the warf where Vincent and Rachel first encountered the twins Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt and the six brainwashed children. It was a dark and spooky place with rusted machinery and battle damage. He could see the scars of Vincent and Rachel's fight in the wood with the children and twins, bullets were still embedded into the fortification pillars and walls. He hoped he could find some clue here in avenging his dear friends' deaths, but nothing of value or inspiration was presenting itself to him.

He was Vulcan Hardgrove, an entrepreneur, among other things, and once proud friend and enforcer to one of the greatest men he had ever known. Tanaka, Vincent's butler, was looking after _Funtom Co_., but its prominence was failing without Vincent to lead it even only after weeks of Vincent's death. In a few years, he feared the company will either parish or have to be sold to merge with a more successful venture.

_Funtom Co._ was just as renown in England as another company in the Canadian colonies - _The Hudson's Bay Company_. Perhaps he should mention a possible merger with it, so at least the workers will still have futures? An overseas market might even see profits rise as well? They will be separate, but under the same brand name, and considering Tanaka's age, it might be in his and the company's best interest.

As nothing was of note to him, he decided to leave. But when he turned towards the half open warehouse siding door, a shadowy figure stood there - the light from a half-crescent moon shining against his back but casting his identity in darkness. He looked small, like…a child?

"Child, this is no place to be playing," he said. "You can get hurt; go back home."

But the child refused to heed to his warning. In fact, the child didn't even move an inch, as if he were staring directly at Vulcan purposely.

"Did you not hear me, child?" he said with more firmness. "Leave this place at once!"

Suddenly the child threw something at him, and Vulcan had to sidestep to avoid its swift velocity as it embedded itself into a wooden support beam that he had been standing next to…and saw it was a blade with something strung around its handle. And Vulcan gasped at the discovery of its insignificance. This was his brother's prized hunter's knife and attached to it with a string was Dietrich's military Iron Cross.

He pulled it from the support beam and held it with disbelief in his hand. The only way that this knife and this cross could be in the hands of this child was if both of his friends were dead. And if they were dead, so to, plausibly, were Vincent's brother Chlaus and Lady Carolyne - which was why he had not heard from them. And it only confirmed what he had suspected, that Bryon Kelvin had had them murdered!

"Who gave this to you boy!" he demanded. "Tell me his name - so I can rip his heart out!"

The boy's response was unexpected, and he ran towards Vulcan with a sword in hand. Vulcan unsheathed a bayonet and they exchanged bows, their weapons clashing and clanging with a quick succession of attacks. Despite being just a child of perhaps ten years old, this boy was trained like a master sword wielder. His Tanto sword, a Japanese small samurai sword, was designed for close combat - and most likely because it was lighter for this boy to use. But whoever trained him, trained him well with it.

Vulcan backed off, giving distance. But the boy continued a vicious onslaught of attacks that surprised Vulcan. Even in this dark place, it didn't appear to waver the boy's ability to _see_ his opponent. Blinded at an early age in his left eye during a street fight, Vulcan had learned to use his other senses to aid him in life, and used them to defend himself from the boy's attacks. But even he was surprised by the boy's skill and quickness and ability to recover, to retaliate again and again.

He didn't want to do it, but he had no choice. And after blocking the next strike, downcasting their swords, he laid a right cross into the boy's face, dropping him to the ground. He then stepped on the boy's sword, flatting it, as the boy held his left cheek. The boy's face was still darkened by the lack of light in the warf warehouse, but he looked up at Vulcan, a glint in one glacial blue eye, momentarily brightened by a gleam of light from a slit in one of the warehouse walls - illuminating half his face. There was hatred in that look.

"Who are you boy? And why do you attack me?"

The boy relinquished his weapon and back somersaulted like some sort of ninja, then reached behind him and pulled out another weapon. Vulcan veered out of the way when a shot was fired from a gun, then another, as the boy followed his moments with the multi-caliber weapon. Four shots were fired before the boy stopped. If Vulcan recalled this particular gun, for which he was an expect on all facets of weaponry, the boy had two shots left. It was a six-shooter. Vincent Phantomhive had one just like it.

"You're good kid, I'll grant you that, even at your age…" Vulcan's voice reverberated through the warehouse from his shadowy hiding place. The boy appeared to have lost him, looking around aimlessly. "But tell me that isn't all you have to offer me?"

And with the same swift velocity, Vulcan returned an attack in kind, and threw Ryan's knife directly at the boy. But the boy appeared to _feel_ it coming and quickly veered out of the way as it embedded itself into a support beam near where the boy was standing. Much like a Japanese ninja _felt_ the pressure of the wind when an enemy attacked, the boy seemed to have honed a similar skill, and Vulcan was impressed. And at the moment, he could not think of anyone he knew, despite his many contacts with men of his skill and caliber, possessing such an advance talent to train this boy. No one in England, that is.

A shot fired in his direction and Vulcan moved off into a deeper, darker alcove of the warehouse. A direct assault on this boy was unwarranted. He had to come at him from behind. He did have his own pistol, but didn't want to use it. He didn't want to kill this boy until he got answers. But with this kind of skill, did this boy _really_ kill his friends? The idea seemed likely. More than likely after seeing him in action.

He hated it to come to this, but he had no choice. From his jacket, he took out his Housier double-barrel 50 calibre pistol. It was specially designed with the barrels stacked on top of each other instead of side-to-side like other guns of the calibre. Not only was it sleeker, but he found it lighter and easier to fire. But he didn't want to kill the kid, only maim him slightly - to keep him alive, so he could get answers. So he aimed at the boy's gun-wielding hand and fired.

The top barrel misfired, but the bottom barrel hit the mark, if not missing the boy's hand completely and sending the six-shooting sprawling from his hand to the ground. The boy let out a cry of both surprise and pain, when the sudden jerk of having the gun shot out of his hand had twisted his wrist oddly backwards.

Vulcan came out of the shadows. His gun was empty, but the boy didn't know that. He cursed himself for why the top barrel had misfired, but he would dismantle the gun later and find out.

"Easy boy, you've lost," he said calmly, approaching the boy with his gun clutched firmly in his hand and brought it to bare on the boy.

He grabbed the boy by the collar and brought him into an area of light and was shocked at what he saw. This boy had the face of his departed friend's son Ciel Phantomhive, but unlike the innocent, shy, happy boy that he once knew, this boy had a cold-hearted look in his eyes that burned with a deep hatred.

"Why boy? What happened to you?" The boy seemed unafraid, his eyes staring directly at Vulcan without violation. "What happened that night during the fire at the mansion?" Then it suddenly occurred to him that this was _not_ Ciel Phantomhive, but a fake. "Who gave you that face? Answer me boy!"

But the boy was silent despite the possible event of his death at Vulcan's hands. Unarmed and defenseless, Vulcan released him, pushing the boy to the ground.

"Go back to your master and tell him you failed," Vulcan said. "And tell him, I will find him and kill him for the insult that he has cast upon your face. The boy's face you have stolen was a kind soul, not a mindless killer. I remember another kind-hearted boy for which you share his eyes, but he is dead. He died three years ago at the hands of an foolish man who claimed he could work miracles."

Vulcan's eye's widened when his mind suddenly triggered an unbelievable thought, looking closer at the boy. He shook his head in disbelief. "No, it can't be! Did he actually succeed? Lukas? Is that you?"

For whatever reason, the mere mention of the name enraged the boy and he ran at Vulcan, barreling into his stomach, knocking him down. Vulcan landed with a heavy thud and dropped his pistol. The boy quickly recovered it and pointed it at Vulcan's face. And clicked the trigger. But nothing happened. He clicked it several more times without stop, without remorse, but it failed every time.

"Lukas, tell me what happened to you!"

Again, the mention of the name appeared to enrage the boy and he reached down and clutched his hands around Vulcan's throat, choking him. Vulcan knocked him off, and the boy rolled away, quickly got to his feet and recovered his Tanto sword, as Vulcan coughed, rubbing his throat.

The boy grit his teeth in anger holding his sword in offensive posture. Vulcan once again unsheathed his bayonet. "Are we going to play this game again, boy? Tell me how Bryon Kelvin did it? Was that doctor also in on the plot to steal you away from your parents?"

"Shut-up! My name is Number Six!"

But the boy appeared apprehensive, as if fighting to keep himself, Vulcan observed. He had only heard the story from Vincent about the brainwashed children under the twins control years prior, and over the years had not quite believed it, but with Lukas here now, he believed the story whole-heartedly. Bryon Kelvin had faked the boy's death and then brainwashed him, turning Lukas into an assassin, after fixing his face. Then sent him to kill all the members of Vincent's secret sect of aristocrats that mocked Kelvin from joining.

He didn't realize the _old man_ had it in his blood, to be so cruel despite his kind-hearted façade and organizing and co-operating an orphanage for destitute, homeless children, whom Vulcan now realized were becoming his own personal, brainwashed army for some nefarious plot!

"Your name is Lukas Phantomhive, boy! Remember who you are!"

"I AM NUMBER SIX!" the boy shouted with such rigidity!

"YOU ARE LUKAS PHANTOMHIVE!" Vulcan retorted with the same rigidity! "I escorted your father to hospital where you were residing after your accident with your face. You drank some of your brother's asthma medicine and it scarred you. Your father felt it in your best interest to help you with plastic surgery to correct the deformity. But then Bryon Kelvin stole you!"

"Lies! Father is a kind man! He helped me!"

"Father? Is that what Bryon Kelvin is calling himself now? Do all the brainwashed children call him this?"

Lukas appeared to falter in his resolve to fight, putting a hand to his face. "Lies! You are lying! You are Father's enemy! And I will kill you!"

Lukas stuck his sword into the ground next to him and reached into his clothes for something, pulling out what looked like a string of Chinese firecrackers. Then he pulled out a book of matches, lit one firecracker and threw them all at Vulcan. The firecrackers exploded with pops and a brightness that temporarily blinded Vulcan. And Vulcan had to shield his eyes.

But the distraction was that Lukas needed and he used it, and Vulcan suddenly felt the penetration of a sharp blade enter his chest with unexpected quickness. Vulcan's eye widened with shock when his vision cleared, and he exchanged looks with Lukas's glacial blue eyes. Lukas's eyes were filling with hatred, albeit programmed into him.

"I _am_ Number Six!" Lukas repeated. "You are mistaken!"

Vulcan fell back to the ground, sliding off the sword, his blood saturating its blood in crimson. He held his chest and feared his right lung had been hit, wheezing for breath.

"Your…parents…loved…you…"

"Indeed. Father does _love_ me," Number Six said. "And he will be pleased with your demise!"

And with one swift thrust from Lukas's sword Vulcan's heart was struck through…

* * *

The Doctor clamped his hands over his ears to dispel Ciel Phantomhive's screams. The boy would just not be silent, screaming horridly inside his cage. This then got the other children started. They weren't wailing or crying, but shouting in protest at what may befall them, observing what the Doctor had been doing to other children, and they did not want it to happen to them. He simply could not work like this!

He left his infirmity and slammed the door behind him, leaving the children to shout to themselves. But their screams could still be heard through the door. The Phantomhive boy had been screaming like this for three days straight, whenever he entered the lab, and he had not been able to continue any of his experiments. He demanded the boy be removed, but Kelvin told him to deal with it. Even when the boy was taken out of his cage in preparation for an experiment, he would thrash around uncontrollably and would be _very_ uncooperative, and for some reason, did not respond well to brainwashing…

He had heard a rumor that Ciel Phantomhive had been taken to a medium soon after his fraternal brother had died - Lukas Phantomhive also known as Number Six - and this medium erased Ciel's memory of him. He didn't know the full circumstances of it, but he wondered if this previous "brainwashing" had something to do with Ciel Phantomhive's lack of lenience unlike others in acceptance of Kelvin's brainwashing?

Notwithstanding, he wanted the kid gone. If he could not be brainwashed or used for one of his experiments, he had no use for the kid. But to just kill him would be a waste. The Inner Circle - a group of political mogul's with their own agenda when it came to the sovereign imperative of England - paid good money for blood sacrifices that they offered up to a demonic divinity that they worshipped. He could not recall who. And he didn't care.

Venturing up to the operation centre, where he was going to inform Kelvin - or Father - to remove the Ciel brat from his infirmity, he began to hear a loud, ruckus commotion as he reached the entrance to the room. Inside, five men were attempting to restrain Number Six, who for some reason, was going crazy!

"Subdue him, fools!" Kelvin ordered the five men in black attire.

They were unarmed, but heavily build. They looked like thugs, all bald. And yet sNumber Six easily overcame them, tossing them away as if they were nothing. The child was extremely strong for his pint size of ten years old. One man was thrown over a table and into a laboratory experiment, two men crashed together that came at Number Six from either side - the boy veering away on instinct. Another man grabbed the kid, but Number Six kicked him between the legs and then snapped his neck. And the fifth man looked to be momentarily scared at what the boy had done to his other four enforcers before attacking him, but appeared to be the smarter of the five and weaved away when the boy lunged for him, quickly grabbing Number Six in a moment of weakness and imbalance in a bear hug, holding him tight.

"What's going on?" the Doctor demanded.

"Strap him in the chair!" Kelvin ordered.

The man did, but with difficulty.

The Doctor came to Kelvin's side. "What's wrong with him?"

Kelvin shook his head. "When he returned from his last mission, he suddenly became violent and confused, and then began throwing some kind of childish temper."

"What about? Could it be his programming?"

"I don't see how?"

Number Six screamed to be released and he struggled hopelessly against the leather binds of the metal chair. Binds had been attached, but Number Six had never needed them before except in the very beginning. Over the past couple of years since his inception into Kelvin's little army, he had be completely obedient and loyal. Now something had gone wrong.

"Turn on the kaleidoscope!" Kelvin ordered. "Open his eyes!"

The machine was switched on and began to spin with the assassin's creed. The man who had captured Number Six used his fingers to forcefully widen open the boy's eyes. But Number Six thrashed his head around making it impossible to keep him steady for the creed to reinforce his brainwashing. Suddenly Number Six bit one of the man's finger's off, blood dripped down the boy's mouth as the man screamed.

Number Six shifted his weight from side-to-side, rocking the chair, loosing its bolts in the floor. The Doctor took action and opened up a near by medicine cabinet, took out a small bottle, opened it, grabbed a handkerchief from an inside pocket beneath his lab coat and poured some of the liquid contents on it. Then he pressed it against Number's Six's face, over his mouth and nose.

Number Six had no choice but to breath it in and immediately began to loose consciousness. But before he did, he said one single word, completely unexpected to everyone listening… "_Luuukaaasss…_" Then his head dropped to his chin, and Number Six fell unconscious.

The Doctor looked back at Kelvin. Kelvin's one unbandaged eye was wide with shock and surprise. "Lukas? That is his real name, is it not? How did he break his programming?" For the first time ever, he found Kelvin speechless. Normally Kelvin had an answer for everything.

The Doctor pointed to a man in a lab coat. "You, take care of that man…" referring to the fingerless enforcer. "I'll reattach his finger later, but put it on ice or it will rot!" Then he pointed to the another enforcer getting to his feet, the man who had been thrown over a table. "And you, put Number Six in a cage until we can learn what went wrong!"

"In a cage, Doctor?" Kelvin protested. "He is my best assassin! My pride and joy!"

"With all due respect, sir, if you continue to override an individual's free will, the brain will eventually find a way to break free of its own method," the Doctor said. "Dr. Freud speaks of this in his studies in child psychology. A new way must be devised to keep Number Six in line or we will have another incident like this one. Something must have happened on his last mission to bring his buried identity to the surface. A word spoken, a sound, a smell - anything can trigger hidden memories."

"Fix him!" Kelvin ordered.

The Doctor nodded. And watched as the enforcer carried Number Six away over his shoulder. "On another note," the Doctor said. "The _other_ Phantomhive boy. He is unruly and my experiments are suffering. He continues to scream and interrupt me. Nothing is being accomplished in my lab."

"You have spoke about this to me before. In light of your valor have, I will acquiesce to your request on this issue and have him transferred. He will join the rest of the children that will be sent to the Inner Circle for their sacrifice. I will inform Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt of the addition."

The Doctor nodded and thanked him. Perhaps now he can get back to work.

* * *

In the days that followed, Number Six finally returned under Kelvin's control with several rigorous treatments of a harsh nature. It took methods very near to torture before the Lukas's identity was once again submerged beneath that of the loyal assassin Number Six. But why it had happened was still a mystery. His last mission was to kill Vincent Phantomhive's loyal friend and enforcer Vulcan Hardgrove.

An secret investigation was launched in the location Number Six said he had killed Vulcan, but nothing had been found that would indicate anything that would cause Number Six's confusion and temper. Scotland Yard confirmed the death of Rex "Vulcan" Hardgrove found in the warf warehouse with his heart and right lung punctured through. This corresponded to Number Six's kill strikes he had told.

Notwithstanding, in the days that also followed, tragic news befell Kelvin as the deaths of nearly thirty Inner Circle members were reported by one of their representatives. Each member who had had attended the "sacrifice" that was scheduled had been slaughtered by some unknown…_thing!_ Their bodies mutilated in such horrid ways that they could hardly be called human.

The secret underground amphitheatre, the Inner Circle's special meeting place, where the killings happened was sealed off after the findings. Scotland Yard was never told. And the killings were covered up, their families given some "believable" excuse. Many of England's prominent socialites and men had been killed in the amphitheatre.

Bryon Kelvin and the Doctor conversed alone in Kelvin's private quarters in his secret _lair_. Kelvin held the report that was delivered to him of the carnage inside the amphitheatre. A few photographs had been taken, but the hazy black and white stills could never match what he had seen first hand.

"They all died?" the Doctor said.

"Except a select few who were away on other business - five Inner Circle members are left, that's how we came to learn of this tragedy," Kelvin confirmed. "My nephew, a gypsy woman and the twins were in attendance, but they all _miraculously_ managed to survive this grotesque massacre."

"Do we know who may have committed this horrendous act?"

Kelvin shook his head. "No clues were found, and my nephew and the twins did not see anything from what they tell me - they hid somewhere safe, blinding themselves to the slaughter; the place was too dark. All they say is that they _felt_ death. I must question them more about it later. Notwithstanding, the children who were to be sacrificed were also killed. All except one, and his body is missing."

"Ciel Phantomhive," the Doctor ventured a guess.

"Correct."

"There is no way he could have done all this, even with his unruly behavior of prior."

Kelvin agreed. "Indeed, Doctor." He looked retrospective. "Nevertheless, to what or to whom the Inner Circle were sacrificing those children to, I fret, that they may have succeeded."

**END**


End file.
